


World's End Holiday

by komagayda



Series: The Collective Unconscious [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Gun Violence, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Soft Apocalypse, Violence, mlm author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-09-27 14:51:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 49,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10026683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/komagayda/pseuds/komagayda
Summary: For whatever reason, for whatever unknown reason, the moment that clock hit zero Yuuri Katsuki was entirely alone.One normal Tuesday in late spring, Yuuri Katsuki starts seeing countdown clocks counting down from 24 hours on every single electronic surface. At the end of that day, everything changes and suddenly Yuuri finds himself entirely alone, with absolutely no signs of human life within the city.At least, that was what he thought until he found himself looking down the barrel of a stranger's handgun. Suddenly, for the first time in months, Yuuri is not alone. Can he and the silver-haired man survive the endless summer days of theWorld's End Holidayand figure out just why they seem to be the last two people on earth, or are the pair doomed to living in the still silence of the empty world forever?





	1. Ain't That a Kick in the Head?

**Author's Note:**

> AKA the weird soft!apocalypse AU no one asked for.  
> I don't know if I should immediately tag for future content/ characters or edit the tags as the story goes along, but I'll make sure to add warnings as appropriate.
> 
> This is based partially on a dream I once had, so forgive me if the narrative is a little bit strange/ disorganised. I promise there's a reason for why certain elements don't seem to line up with an extinction-level event.
> 
> any and all song lyrics used are © to their respective copyright holders!

                The friendly horns bounced through the morning air, slightly scratchy from the sound of the old vinyl record on the turntable. The smooth sound of the music carried airily as Yuuri Katsuki, age 23, stretched. He’d just finished setting up his solar still for the day, and picked some small tomatoes. The cucumbers and lettuce looked like they were coming in well, and the rudimentary cage he’d built around his strawberries seemed to have kept out any hungry scavengers so far, so hopefully they would grow to maturity soon.

**_I’ve got you, under my skin/ I’ve got you deep in the heart of me/ So deep in my heart/ that you’re really a part of me/ I’ve got you under my skin._ **

                Cole Porter’s voice trilled in the quiet, sunny air. It made everything seem oddly idyllic. If one wasn’t aware of the current state of things, they could be forgiven for thinking that the former IT consultant was enjoying a nice holiday, tending to an urban garden. Maybe that it was a general hobby, or the result of concerns about local eating and carbon footprints, and that he would bring some of the extra fruits and vegetables to his coworkers on Monday morning once the weekend was over.

                The truth, however, was that the concept of weekends, Monday mornings and coworkers had long ceased to be relevant. Yuuri had no idea what day of the week it was, and hadn’t really bothered taking any of that into account anymore. At first, he’d desperately tried to but as he settled in his new routine he no longer cared about constructs like time and dates. In a sense, the man supposed it was a little bit liberating but part of him missed the sense of structure that came with his previous life.

_The World’s End Holiday_ had changed a lot of things.

                For reasons Yuuri Katsuki could not understand, it had started one bright, blue, Tuesday morning. He’d been living his daily habitus: shaving his face after he’d stepped out of the shower, brushing his teeth, eating a slice of toast with marmalade downed with instant coffee, getting ready for the daily commute to the big box computer and technology store at which he worked. His black work pants had been pressed the night before, along with a crisp, white, short sleeved button up and a black tie, the uniform for everyone who worked at the IT desk, fixing electronics and computers that customers brought in. Usually, it meant clearing them of particularly nasty viruses and malware that they’d gotten whilst browsing less than savoury websites, or perhaps it was replacing broken components. They occasionally got the confused grandmother begging them to help her operate the new tablet their grandchild had gotten them for Christmas and get onto the new-fangled-webzones they were talking about. Yuuri genuinely enjoyed the task, it was somewhat rote, but it was safe. However, that Tuesday morning seemed… different.

                He’d stepped out of his apartment only to find that the large screens splayed along the sides of the skyscrapers and buildings that usually played advertisements or short news announcements were blank, with a simple green timer counting down. He’d frowned, asking one of the commuters next to him if she knew what that clock meant, if it was some sort of city wide advertising campaign. She looked at him as if he was crazy, saying that the screen was simply showing an advertisement for a men’s cologne.

                That day had continued to be strange, with every monitor, television, smartphone, and tablet in the store displaying the same thing. A digital stopwatch, bright green on a black background counting down from what had been 24 hours but was now closer to 22 hours. It wasn’t just the store displays, either, everything the customers brought in would display that timer. Even Yuuri’s own smart watch and phone could only show the one thing, regardless of whether it was even on or if he’d factory reset them.

                And no matter what, no one else acknowledged the timers. Around noon (or what Yuuri thought was noon, since he had no way of checking the time), his supervisor Celestino had placed a warm hand on his shoulder, giving him a sympathetic smile. His brown eyes looked at him with the same expression one would give a child who was talking nonsense, a gentle pitying glance.

                “You should go home Yuuri. Take a holiday for a few days, the pressure is getting to you. You’re a good employee, and I really appreciate your dedication to the job but the stress seems to be making you on edge. You haven’t used any of your vacation days since you started working here 3 years ago, please rest.” The older man had implored.

                The suggestion had been said in a warm, concerned tone but worded in a way that implied that it was less _friendly suggestion_ and more _direct order_. So, he had gone back to his apartment, trying desperately to wrap his head around just what was happening. Maybe Celestino was right and all this was a stress based hallucination. He tried to turn on the news, but found that he couldn’t get anything other than that damn clock to show on the screen. Same with his game consoles, his own computer and the microwave.

                Even the fucking microwave.

                He gave up and went back to bed, figuring that whatever it was, someone would sort it out. Unfortunately, no one had, and things had only proceeded to get stranger. He woke up the next day at a time he wasn’t sure about, not worrying about it because he was still on his involuntary holiday. He tried to turn on his phone, only to get a flashing **00:00:** **00: 00**. Surely enough, everything showed the same flashing green numbers, accompanied with the text **_WORLD’S END. HAPPY HOLIDAY._**

                Was this some kind of strange malware?

                Maybe it was a stupid prank and he was on a Candid Camera type program. He would go to work anyway, figuring that if it was the former they would need him there in order to manage the throngs of confused people wondering why their devices refused to do anything but wish them a happy holiday. He threw on his work clothes from the day before, messily tightening his tie in a loose Windsor knot as he ran out of the apartment onto the street.

                And that was when things got… even stranger somehow. The city streets were entirely bare, none of the typical hustling and bustling crowds were around. No one was milling around and the storefronts were vacant, everything was silent and every single vehicle on the streets was eerily still. Everything seemed as though it had been dropped in the middle of whatever it was it was doing, as though someone had suddenly hit the pause button and then proceeded to chroma key every human being out of the picture. For the next few days he’d ran around screaming and calling out, trying to find any trace of human life, only to be met with deafening silence and stillness.

                For whatever reason, for whatever unknown reason, the moment that clock hit zero Yuuri Katsuki was entirely alone.

                He eventually started to get used to the solitude, figuring out how to fend for himself in a vaguely satisfactory manner. He had set up a small vegetable and fruit garden, and had a few hens in a homemade coop. His solar stills would produce a sufficient amount of potable water and he had figured out that even though most electronics were simply useless and flashed the same **_WORLD’S END. HAPPY HOLIDAY._** message, there was still a steady supply of electricity to power a turntable on which he played vinyl records, space heater and his hotplate. Generally, he was content, but quite lonely…

                He stretched back, looking at the sprawling blue sky. Ever since the _World’s End Holiday_ , the sky was endlessly clear and bright, with sparse fluffy white clouds floating along during the day, and bright shining stars twinkling in the endless dark expanse at night. The air had always been pleasantly temperate, not too warm nor too cold, even when the sun had set.

                Just an endless string of lovely early summer days.

**_I would sacrifice anything come what might/ For the sake of having you near / In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night/ And repeats, how it yells in my ear_ **

                Yuuri decided he would go for another walk. He’d taken to walking pretty much every day, just in the vain hope that something would be different from the days that proceeded it. Despite everything, it all vaguely blended together in a long string of lazy summer vacation afternoons. Before the _World’s End Holiday_ , Yuuri had been a vaguely sedentary person, going to work pretty much every day and then coming back home, watching a few hours of Netflix, indulging in a few raids in his favourite MMORPGs, played a few matches of his favourite online team shooters before getting his clothes ready for the next day. On the rare occasions that he had time off, he would do much of the same, escaping from the daily stresses in his games and television shows.

                But now he had more free time than he knew what to do with, but he couldn’t fall back on his old habits. So, he improvised, picking up books at the library (with the intention of returning them if things went back to normal), borrowing old LPs from the record store and thrift shop, gathering seeds from the local garden supply store and tinkering with various old devices to see what he could make with them. He grabbed his heavy metal walking stick, throwing on his backpack with a few protein bars, the tomatoes he’d picked and a canteen of water. He tucked a large hunting knife in his belt before wandering away from the apartment complex.

                The walking stick and knife had been safety measures in case any animals wanted to take a big chunk out of his leg. Although he’d never run into a person, he’d crossed paths quite often with the local flora and fauna. There were the normal critters who inhabited urban centres, stray dogs and cats, raccoons, pigeons, that sort of thing, but there were also the hungry exotic beasts that had somehow broken out of the local zoo. He almost had a heart attack the first time he saw a mountain lion chewing on the mangled carcass of… well, something Yuuri didn’t recognise. Ever since, he brought along the heavy metal cane and a hunting knife he got from a sports goods store.

                Most animals were quite content to leave him alone though, and he did the same. The only exception had been the fat, black hens that he’d found in the library one morning. They’d been fairly docile, and they seemed happy that someone was willing to shelter them in a warm dry place and feed them a mix of grains and insects gleaned from the local pet store.  He named them Celestino and Phichit, even if he knew they were female, after two of his former coworkers.

                He frowned, still wondering what happened to everybody. Had they been raptured, or abducted by aliens, or vaporised within an instant? There were simply no traces that they’d ever roamed the streets: no abandoned clothes, no shoes strewn about, no Hiroshima-esque shadows.

                Just silence and stillness.

                He wandered absentmindedly down a street, lined with large leafy trees which splayed out into a green canopy above him. The little houses in the residential quarter were small and pleasantly painted in bright, happy colours. Their lawns were, however, quite overgrown and it was clear that the signs of disuse were starting to settle on the lawn furniture. He kicked a child’s soccer ball down the street, watching the white and black orb roll a fair distance. He turned on his Sony Walkman, electing to play a tape in order to buffer the eerie uncanny feeling of the quiet road. _Best of the Classic Crooners_ picked up with _You’re Nobody Until Somebody Loves You_. The smoothness of the chill horn section and vocals blended with the atmosphere in a surreal way, but it made Yuuri feel slightly less alone to hear another person’s voice, even if it was just ol’ Dean Martin on a vaguely low fi cassette tape.

                He focused on the middle distance, vaguely disappointed. He didn’t know why he expected anything…

**_The world still is the same, you never change it/ As sure as the stars shine above/ You're nobody til somebody loves you/ So find yourself somebody to love_ **

                He continued slowly down the street when suddenly he heard a noise from behind him. A voice spoke hoarsely, a human voice that most definitely not Dean Martin, Cole Porter or any of the _Great Crooners_. Yuuri stopped dead in his tracks as Dean Martin warbled on, blissfully unaware that the world had seemingly come to an end, continuing into _Ain't It a Kick in the Head._

                Rather than soft crooning however, the real voice spoke in a harsh tone, almost a whisper, in a language Yuuri did not recognise. He turned around slowly, wishing he hadn’t as he the man gave a sharp yell as he did. He was face to face with the barrel of a handgun. A nervous sweat immediately pearled at his hairline, creeping down his spine slowly.

                “Ты человек?”

  
**_I've got sunshine enough to spread/ It's just like the fella said/ Tell me quick ain't love like a kick in the head?_**

                The man barked his question again, in a European language of some sort, perhaps Ukrainian or Russian. Beyond the gloved hand holding the gun was a tall, muscular figure. His silver hair gleamed in the sun, fanning behind him like a halo and falling to his shoulders. His pale blue eyes were intense, boring into Yuuri’s with a fervency Yuuri was previously unfamiliar with.

                “I'm sorry, I don’t understand…” Yuuri answered, slowly raising his hands, dropping the metal walking stick to his side. He smiled weakly, trying to make sure he came across as the least threatening human ever (because, deep down, he was).

                “Ты человек? Speak English? You human?” The man asked again, cocking his head forward as he spoke.

                “Ah, yes. I speak English.” Yuuri responded, thankful that there was some way of bridging the linguistic gap. He hadn’t even realised that he’d instinctively responded in Japanese, it was his default language for muttering to himself and, well, recently he’d been doing that a lot. “Yes, I’m a human. My name is Yuuri Katsuki. What about you?”

                The man lowered his gun, still keeping those pale blue eyes fixed on Yuuri’s face, unflinchingly staring into his eyes, “Viktor Nikiforov…”

                “Have you met anyone else?” Yuuri asked hopefully, realising now that the danger was gone that he was actually talking to another person for the first time in months, “I haven’t, except for you…”

                Viktor shook his head, “I’m afraid we are alone. At least, alone together…”

**_I couldn't feel any better or I'd be sick/ Tell me quick, oh, ain't love a kick?/ Tell me quick, ain't love a kick in the head?_ **


	2. Alone togther

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Loneliness, as it turned out, had become the new habitus…_  
>  Viktor and Yuuri get to know each other as they agree to share the solitude of the apocalypse, sharing a first meal together.  
> However, as they settle into their new domestic life they get a surprise that Yuuri could never have prepared himself for...

                _Alone together?_

               Yuuri ruminated for a moment on the stranger’s words. The thought struck him as being oddly comforting. He had been alone for so long now that the idea of having someone to share the solitude with felt uncertain, almost foreign to him.

               He had been hoping, searching for this moment since he’d first laid his surprised eyes on the empty street on that Wednesday morning, but now that it was here he wasn’t sure how to handle it at all.

               “Do you have anywhere to live?” He finally asked. It had been the first thing he could think of, being that Yuuri Katsuki, had never been particularly good at or fond of conversation to begin with. If he had to describe himself, he would probably use an analogy that went along the lines of _currently running Windows ME in a Windows 10 body, and also has Anxiety.EXE running in the background consistently_.

               The Russian shook his head again. “Living in a van. Drove from two cities away, never found anyone until now.”

               The man’s voice seemed rusty from disuse, hoarse and breathy. Then again, Yuuri was certain his voice sounded unnatural coming out of him as well, his English heavily cloaked in a thicker accent than it usually would’ve been. The months of muttering to himself in his mother tongue had caught up to him.

**_Fly me to the moon/ Let me play among the stars/ let me see what spring is like/ on Jupiter and mars_ **

                _The Great Crooners_ continued to drone in the background, a diegetic soundtrack to the awkward silence that had developed.

                Neither man seemed to quite know how to broach the other, which was natural. On the endless calm, summer days there was no need to remember etiquette or social graces. Loneliness, as it turned out, had become the new habitus… a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves as they sized each other up.

                “Do you want to live with me, Viktor?” Yuuri finally asked the stranger, nervous about how he might answer. “I’ve set up a rudimentary system that can sustain us. I’ve got a garden and some solar stills and… stuff like that.”

                For the first time since the pair had faced each other, Viktor smiled. Those intense blue eyes took on a softer, warmer quality that reminded Yuuri less of an icy day and more of the clear sky that sprawled above the pair. “I would love to,” he said as he nodded gently.

**_Fill my heart with song/ and let me sing forever more/ You are all I long for/ All I worship and adore_ **

                The pair walked wordlessly over to the place where Viktor had parked his van, which was surprisingly not particularly far from where they were standing, probably a few blocks at the most. Yuuri finally had a chance to take in his unlikely companion, noting that he had leading man good looks. His long, pale hair fluttered in the gentle breeze, catching the sun and framing his sharp, almost androgynous features elegantly. He was muscular, yes, but in a classically beautiful, sculptural way rather than in an obviously overworked way. Clad in a light leather jacket, black scarf and dark jeans, he looked like the protagonist in an action film.

                Comparitively, Yuuri, in his worn university hoodie and faded, torn jeans, felt more like the _fat funny sidekick._ He averted his eyes, wishing that he’d taken cardio more seriously or something. He’d never really needed to be athletic, even now that the world had ended, but he did feel vaguely self conscious.

**_In other words/ please be true / in other words/ in other words…/ I love you_ **

                “How did you get the music?” Viktor asked, cocking his head towards the Walkman that hung on Yuuri’s hips. “I heard it, that’s why I went to go see. I thought I was finally going crazy from all the quiet.”

                “Oh, I just found this old Walkman and some tapes at the thrift shop. From there, it was just a matter of messing with a modern speaker to get it to work with the older style of audio jack that it used.” Yuuri answered, slightly flustered. “It’s not usually the kind of music I would listen to, but I take what I can get. I’ve kind of taken a liking to it though, just trying new things… or rather, old things I suppose.”

                The Russian smiled again, his eyes twinkling with excitement, a large giddy smile on his face. “I have not heard music in so long… Feels wonderful. Do you have more?”

                Yuuri nodded, unzipping the top pocket of the backpack where he kept his collection of cassette tapes. Some were more worn than others, with the labels gone. He finally selected what he’d figured was a homemade mix tape that had been mixed into the pile of miscellaneous ones at the store when he’d taken the lot (with the intention of going back to pay if a cashier ever magically deposited into existence). On the label was written, in shakey black marker, _For Nights When You Can’t Remember Me._

**_When the night has come/ And the land is dark/ And the moon is the only light we'll see/ No I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid/ Just as long as you stand, stand by me._ **

                The pair fell silent as _Stand by Me_ played, the sound slightly fuzzy and low fi. The bass and strings gently bounced through the silent streets as though carried by the light breeze. In the calm air it took an almost tangible quality, enveloping the pair in a blanket of song. Viktor closed his eyes, his long lashes fluttering slightly as he did. He swayed as though in a reverent trance, absorbing the sound with his entire being.

                _The silence must have been rough on him._

               Yuuri wasn’t sure how he would’ve been able to make it this long without some form of background noise to remind him he was real. Eventually, the unlikely duo made it to a brown delivery van which was currently idling, it’s motor rumbling gently. Victor paused and pulled a keyring from his pocket, which he used to unlock the doors.

                “Do you like dogs, Yuuri?” The man asked.

                “Oh, yeah.” Yuuri responded, startled by the sudden nature of the question, “we used to have a chocolate brown poodle when I was a little kid. His name was Vicchan- err, Victor rather.”

                “So, that would make me the second Viktor in your life then…” The Russian responded with a quirky smile. “I’m glad to hear that though. Other wise we would have to fix that.”

                As the door opened, a large dog raised its head, yawning lazily. She looked slightly old, with a curly beige-silver coat but otherwise she could’ve been an exact replica of ol’ Vicchan. She gave Yuuri a quick courtesy sniff before deciding that the man with the glasses could be trusted and curled back into the back-cargo area, proceeding with her nap.

                “I called her Makkachin, she followed me everywhere. I can’t get rid of her…” Viktor said fondly, giving the curly-haired dog a gentle scratch behind the ear. “She’s good, but lazy.”

                _Of course,_ Yuuri figured _, He needed to have had some company._ _Driving around in an empty wasteland for months would probably have driven him crazy otherwise._

**_If the sky that we look upon/ Should tumble and fall/ And the mountains should crumble to the sea/ I won't cry, I won't cry, no I won't shed a tear/ Just as long as you stand, stand by me_ **

The drive back to Yuuri’s apartment bloc happened in relative silence, with only the strings and bouncy contrabass of _Stand by Me_ and the gentle noises of the dog in the cargo bay shuffling in its sleep. Could this be called silence?

                By virtue of the sound surrounding the pair, no… but perhaps silence wasn’t just defined by the absence of sound. Yuuri had created his own soundtrack with the delightfully outmoded technology of the Walkman and the turntable, but the world around him was still, for lack of the better word, silent. _Perhaps_ , the dark-haired man thought, _silence is the absence of life._

_Just like solitude is the absence of people. You can have a loyal canine companion, or two fat clucking hens named after people you never thought you would miss, but does that mean you’re not alone?_

The drive seemed almost impossibly long as they weaved down the empty streets, Yuuri occasionally pointing out where they should turn or stop to pick up some supplies. Almost geographically impossibly long, but eventually they made it to the old building, it’s beige concrete façade almost gleaming in the sun. Under the calm, impossibly blue sky, everything seemed slightly too saturated to be real.

                Viktor followed Yuuri cautiously up the stairs, to the third-floor apartment where Yuuri lived. It had been the same one he lived in for the past few years, ever since he’d graduated and left the student-dorms. While some people would’ve taken the opportunity to try living in ritzier quarters, the cheap, cramped space offered a sense of familiarity and comfort to Yuuri.

                Besides, it was well situated enough, high enough to offer a decent vantage point onto the streets below, but not so high so as to make a quick escape impossible. Plus, the rooftop access made it easy for him to set up the small garden and chicken coop which had proven valuable to survival.

                The dog was the first to bound into the room, excitedly sniffing every surface and barking gleefully. Viktor chuckled at her antics as she decided to claim the sofa with her long body, rolling onto her back with a goofy doggy smile on her face. He started baby-talking her in Russian, enthusiastically scratching her tummy and giving it the occasional comically exaggerated smooch.

                Very different from the man who had pointed a gun at his head only a few moments prior. He sighed, flopping the backpack off his shoulder and turning on the hotplate, setting a pot on it to start cooking some of the instant noodles he’d still had lying around his pantry. He would add some eggs to the pot and maybe chop up some of the tomatoes, green onions, chives and carrots that had grown to maturity as well.

                The taste of convenience mixed in with a hint of lazy summer afternoon.

                _A new modern meal for the new modern man_ , he mused with a smile, _if only my comp sci profs could see me now._

He looked up from the chopping board to see Viktor watching his moves with a rapt expression. His hands were still massaging the canine’s curly coat as her head rested on his lap, but those sharp blue eyes were watching him almost unblinkingly. 

                “I’m just making some soup for us. It’s nothing special but I figured you might be hungry…” Yuuri said awkwardly, feeling as though he was being analysed. “It’s got some of the vegetables from the garden and water from the solar stills. I get tap water if you need to wash up, but I don’t really trust it enough to drink…”

                The man nodded, a smile spreading on his face. Despite his quiet, observant nature, the man’s smile seemed warm and genuine. He was probably a very nice person when you got to know him, but, you know, interacting with another human after months of absolute nothing was… _hard._

                “I’ve been eating cold dog food for months.” He finally spoke, “anything is better.”

                _That was… Unexpected._

“D-Dog food? Why have you been doing that?!” Yuuri exclaimed in surprise.

                “It was convenient?” The silver-haired man replied hesitantly, as though eating dog food out of the can was entirely logical and Yuuri was the weird one for finding the thought entirely unpleasant. “Half for her, half for me. Tastes bad, but I am still alive.” He punctuated his sentence with a shrug.

                Yuuri poured the noodles into a bowl, making sure Viktor got a hearty portion. He joined the man over on the couch and handed it to him.

                “Eat. It’s not as good as my mother’s but…” Yuuri said sternly, “It’s certainly more nutritious than _dog food_. For dogs. Not humans.”

                The man took an enthusiastic bite of noodles and broth, his eyes rolling back in his head in delight, as though it was the most delicious thing he’d tasted in his life (and, considering his past diet, it might as well have been). “Delicious! If your mother’s is better, then she might not be of this earth.”

                Yuuri rolled his eyes, trying to maintain his stern demeanor but finding it hard to do so when faced with compliments in broken English. He eventually conceded and let himself smile back.

                It was almost domestic, a nagging housewife, a doofy sitcom husband and their dog.

                Sure, the doofy husband had introduced himself with a gun pointed at his head and the housewife was, until now, the sole survivor of some unknown extinction level event… but the dog was just a dog and that seemed like that was worth something.

                Viktor’s face sobered as he finished wolfing down the food with gusto. He sighed, looking over to Yuuri and opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it. Finally, he managed to push out the thought.

                “Did you see the clocks too?” He asked in a strained voice, as though thinking about it was something painful.

                Yuuri nodded, remembering the chaos and confusion of the day before the _World’s End Holiday_.

                “I thought I was the only one. I was practicing my routine and the screens at the arena only showed that… clock. I thought they were timing me and I got angry.” Viktor started, a look of relief and regret in his eyes, “I am a figure skater, and I was in the country for a competition, you see. We kept practicing but I did not understand the clocks and eventually I got into a fight with my coach and went back to the hotel room and got drunk and then the next day… nothing left. I thought it was a dream or a hang over. But then the day after that and after that… still nothing.”

                “I work in information technologies, or at least, I did and I thought it was all some weird prank or computer virus…” Yuuri said sympathetically. “I still don’t understand, but for whatever reason when those clocks hit zero something happened.”

                Viktor nodded, a wry smile on his face. He reached into his own satchel and pulled out a bottle of clear liquid that Yuuri recognised as being some sort of alcoholic spirit. He took a swig and passed it to Yuuri, “Happy Holiday.”

                “Yeah, Happy Holiday.” Yuuri responded with a similarly blithe smile pulling on his lips before tilting the bottle back, ingesting the burning liquor. He coughed slightly as he handed the bottle back to his new post-apocalyptic bunker buddy.

                The man took another swig, patting Yuuri on the back as if to help the vodka go down better. The pair continued, sharing the bottle back and forth until it was empty.

                The ritual was strangely comforting as Cole Porter droned on in a gentle hum in the background. The pair leaned on each other, enjoying the casual contact for a while. Viktor’s shoulder was warm, safe, and even though it was only through layers of clothing the touch felt strangely intimate.

                He’d never realised how starved for company and human contact he’d been until now. Perhaps it was the warm haze of the alcohol that made it so, but he felt a strange melancholic ache rise in his chest. Clearly his companion had felt the same thing, because he had leaned in closer, nuzzling the crook of the shorter man’s neck.

                It wasn’t unpleasant. A Closer contact than Yuuri would normally have been comfortable with, especially with a man he’d only met earlier that day, but any social mores and closeness taboos had evaporated along with most of the human population apparently. He found himself tilting his head and resting it against Viktor’s, raising an arm to gently stroke his hair.

                They stayed like that for a long time, just properly appreciating the fact that for the first time in months they were no longer alone, but rather _alone together_. Whatever they hadn’t been able to breach with words, they breached with touch.

                “Yuuri Katsuki…” He heard the other man say in a drunken murmur.

                “Yes, Viktor Nikiforov?” Yuuri replied, letting some of those long silver tresses thread between his fingers. He hoped that they could stay like this for a little while longer.

                “What does it mean ‘press any key to continue’?” He asked, lifting his face lazily to the dusty television that Yuuri had almost forgotten existed in the apartment.

                There, on the black screen, was a new message for the first time in months.

                Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat.

 _**COUNTDOWN TO DAY 2 -10:00:00.** _  
_**HAPPY HOLIDAY FROM WORLD’S END.** _  
_**DO YOU WANT TO SEE A MEMORY// PRESS ANY KEY TO CONTINUE.** _


	3. Press Any Key To Continue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon being prompted, Yuuri hits any key to continue and gets an eyefull of memories.  
> The mystery deepens and the boys end up with a lot to process.

                Yuuri leaped from the sofa, letting Viktor flop onto the seat cushion with a small disgruntled grunt. He scrambled next to the screen, watching the glowing green numbers tick down, the pixelated sans serif burning into the back of his eyelids. He could’ve sworn that this morning the words still read “ **00:00:00:00 WORLD’S END. HAPPY HOLIDAY.** ” same as every other screen in the world.

                 He scrambled over to the corner where he left his discarded electronics, a thick layer of dust having settled on them. He flung the screen of his laptop open so fast the hinge could’ve broken. Sure enough, the same green words and letters and numbers. Pixels burned into the inky blackness of the LCD display, none of it making sense as the screen should’ve been off.

                He flopped back down onto the sofa, hardly registering that the other man was still on it, slightly groggy and peeved. His fingers hovered over the keys for a moment, hesitating. Viktor leaned in, looking over his shoulder curiously.

                Yuuri’s fingers hovered over the keyboard with trepidation, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt a nervous sweat creep down his back as his anxiety intensified.

               _What could it mean? What do they mean by “Do you want to see a memory?”_

                After a long nervous pause, he felt a gentle, warm hand on his own. He gasped, startled by the sudden contact. He turned his head to the left, taking a few seconds of comfort from a gentle smile and warm blue eyes.

                “Breathe, Yuuri,” the silver-haired man said softly, “you can do nothing while you panic.”

                He nodded, trying to clear his head. He slowly lowered his hand, tapping a tentative Y on the keyboard. The sound of the finger hitting the key seemed unnaturally loud, almost echoing in the enclosed space. As he did, green text scrolled up the screen, stopping under the countdown.

_A debug menu._

                He had seen countless debug menus in his life, but this one was unlike any he’d seen before. Usually, the debug menu would allow one to see and control various parameters for an application, with clearly noted functions and statistics. In this case, however, a series of cryptic words and directories were listed.

**_PLEASE ENJOY THIS SPECIAL PRESENTATION FROM ANIMA AND FRIENDS._ **

**_SELECT 1. WORLD’S END. HAPPY HOLIDAY!_**         

                “What in the world is this?” Yuuri muttered to himself, the words slipping out once more in his mother tongue. “What does this mean?”

                Viktor made a small, confused hmm noise in the back of his throat, prompting Yuuri, who was currently enraptured in the mystery unfolding on the laptop monitor, to remember to speak English.

                “I’m sorry, I was just wondering what this means… _special presentation_? _Anima and Friends_? It’s all very…” Yuuri said, trailing off as he pushed his glasses back up his nose somewhat.

                “Unusual?” Viktor offered, cocking his head to the side like a dog trying to figure something out.

 _I mean, he does eat dog food…_ Yuuri thought to himself as he chided himself for the comparison. He nodded, “Yeah, unusual.”

                He highlighted one of the options with his keyboard, noting that no cursor had appeared on the screen, and hit enter, wondering what would happen. Immediately he was met with a start menu for something titled **_The Term Paper_**. He furrowed his brows, confused at the bright colourful pixel art, showing a cute logo with hearts and a dos-era style graphical representation of what Yuuri assumed was him, asleep on his desk.

                Viktor gave him a confused glance and gesticulated with his hand as if to say _go on_. Yuuri hit enter once more and was met a first person view a pair of eyes opening up as a hand set a styrofoam cup of coffee down on the table in front of him. The hand was attached to a young man with a bright, enthusiastic smile that seemed to push right up to his twinkling eyes.

                It was a crude, pixelated rendition, yes, but it was still Phichit Chulanot, his best friend since childhood. They’d met shortly after Phichit’s family had moved next door from Thailand and they’d bonded immediately despite being polar opposites both physically and in terms of conduct as well. Phichit was tall, slender, and wiry with warm brown skin, friendly eyes and a winning smile that charmed pretty much everyone around him. Naturally, he’d always been a crowd pleaser and was popular with most of their classmates throughout school, but he still chose to hang out with the shy, short, fat, socially awkward computer nerd despite it all… And now, as an adult, he, or rather, the pixel-art version of him on the screen was wearing the blue polo and nametag of a floor manager on the sales side of their shared workplace, beaming at him.

                No sound exited the speakers, but Yuuri could hear his warm, excitable voice in the depths of his mind as he read the subtitles that had popped up underneath him.

 

 

> **_P: GUESS WHOSE THESIS ON TRANSHUMANISM AND ITS APPLICATIONS IN VR TECHNOLOGY JUST GOT QUOTED BY A PRESTIGIOUS PUBLICATION IN EUROPE AGAIN?_ **
> 
> **_Y: THE FACT THAT YOU KEEP A GOOGLE ALERT TO NOTIFY YOU WHEN SOMEONE CITES MY UNIVERSITY PAPERS IS A LITTLE WEIRD, PHICHIT._ **
> 
> **_P: IT’S NOT WEIRD TO KEEP TABS ON YOUR FRIENDS’ ACHIEVEMENTS YUURI. I’M PROUD OF YOU._ **
> 
> **_Y: YEAH, THAT’S A LITTLE BIT WEIRD._ **
> 
> **_P: NONSENSE. YOU KNOW, I DON’T GET YOU YUURI. YOU DID REAL, GROUNDBREAKING STUFF IN THE FIELDS OF ETHICS AND ROBOTICS, TRANSHUMANISM AND MIXING SCIENCE WITH PHILOSOPHY AND PSYCHOLOGY… YOU SEEMED REALLY INTO IT TOO._ **
> 
> **_Y: I KNOW THE POINT YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE PHICHIT…_ **
> 
> **_P: YEAH, THEN WHY ARE YOU WORKING HERE INSTEAD OF DOING SOMETHING WITH THAT? SURELY WHEN YOU GRADUATED WITH HONOURS YOU DIDN’T THINK ABOUT REINSTALLING WINDOWS 8.1 EVERY DAY BECAUSE SOME IDIOT COULDN’T KEEP AWAY FROM WEIRD RUSSIAN PORN, OR TELLING LITTLE OLD MEN HOW TO ACCESS GOOGLE DOCS, OR HAVING TO EXPLAIN WHY YOU CAN’T INSTALL WINDOWS XP ONTO A MACBOOK…_ **
> 
> **_Y: I COULD ASK THE SAME THING YOU KNOW, WHY DIDN’T YOU KEEP WORKING ON THAT SOCIAL MEDIA APP YOU WERE MAKING, THE ONE WITH THE NEURAL NETWORKING?_ **
> 
> **_P: THE MONEY RAN OUT…_ **
> 
> **_Y: EXACTLY. THERE’S NO MONEY IN PHILOSOPHISING ABOUT THE TRANSMUTABLE NATURE OF MAN AND MACHINE AND HOW TECHNOLOGY BLENDS THE TWO…_ **
> 
> **_P: I GUESS YOU’RE RIGHT, YUU-BEAR. ANYWAY, CELESTINO SAYS YOU SHOULDN’T WORK SO LATE, FALLING ASLEEP ON THE DESKS IS GONNA FUCK UP YOUR BACK._ **

                The tips of Yuuri’s ears turned red as he watched the little pixelated Phichit ruffle his hair before turning back out of the office space where the IT desk worked and walking jauntily back onto the sales floor. It had been a conversation the two of them often had, remembering the idealistic dreams they’d shared when they went into computer sciences and watching them gently settle into safe, rote realities. At the time it had seemed like a mundane exchange, but looking back at it now, now that he could no longer playfully bicker about the future and life with his childhood friend it seemed almost like a period of mourning for the _could have been_.

                He felt tears stinging in the corners of his eyes as the tiny pixel replica of his friend faded off the screen, replaced with the glowing green countdown clock and the message wishing the sole survivors a happy holiday. It had been a while since he’d seen those warm brown eyes, that friendly smile, that carefree gait that the other man had carried himself with since he was a small boy… He never thought that he would miss him like this. It had never occurred to him that his friend would be anything other than a universal constant in his life.

                He slumped back into the couch as he watched the numbers silently tick down through hazy eyes before slowly folding the laptop shut. How did his memory of such a minute event end up not only tugging at his inner core so badly but end up on the computer?

                What had seemed like a tantalising answer only raised further questions and further feelings he had tried not to think about for the longest time.

_They used to think you could die of nostalgia, that the homesickness for something you could never return to could kill you, make you die of grief… I think I can see where they were coming from now._

                He had almost forgotten that Viktor was next to him as he processed what he saw, but he was thankful for him now as he felt the gentle pressure of an arm being wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him close and gently tucking him into a warm embrace.

                 “Was that a friend?” The taller man asked softly, brushing some of Yuuri’s hair behind his ear gently.

                Yuuri nodded, finding it hard to choke out words without having them mix with hoarse sobs. _Loneliness. Grief. The endless, quiet ticking of the clock. It’s all too much to process and it isn’t fair. Why is this happening?_

                For all the time spent surviving, he’d never really given much thought to the grander mystery behind it all. Maybe that had been a coping mechanism, Yuuri had always been slightly avoidant when it came to dealing with things, especially emotionally distressing things. His brain had understood after twenty-three years in his body that his heart of glass needed to be protected.

                Except now, of course, it was all on display thanks to the haze of the alcohol and the surge of memories that had accompanied that cutscene-type video. Part of him wanted to open the laptop once more and desperately seek the debug menu once more and indulge in the spectacle of memory, but he knew that it would be a fruitless endeavour. Instead, he simply chose to let himself be held as his shoulders shook from the reverberations of sad thoughts. Viktor’s arms were warm and strong as he cradled the smaller man, gently stroking his shoulder and muttering words that Yuuri did not understand softly. He could smell the alcohol on his breath as he continued trying to soothe him, occasionally peppering his soft words with English whispers of “it’s okay” and “it’s going to be alright”.

                Finally, Yuuri found the composure to speak his voice slightly shaken from the impact of the emotions, “H-how do you think they got to my memories like that? It was such a minute moment, like a conversation we’d had one morning at work…”

                 Viktor bit his lower lip and furrowed his brows slightly, looking pensive. “I am not sure, but I think we might be pawns in someone’s game… the clocks have to come from somewhere.”

                Yuuri nodded, “I never really thought of it, but it has to have something to do with this entire situation right?”

                 Viktor nodded grimly, his blue eyes sharp as they fixated on the numbers ticking down on the television screen.  “What do you think we should do now?”

                 “well, the clock says countdown to day two, right?” Yuuri said solemnly, another blithe smile curling on his lips, “I think we should see whatever tomorrow has in store for us.”

_We should do what I do best and just… wait._

_Happy Holiday indeed._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the comments and support so far, I'm really thankful for the feedback!
> 
> sorry this chapter is a bit more exposition than anything else, but at least poor Yuuri gets some prime hugs out of this experience!


	4. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day two begins, and things end up even stranger than they were the day before.  
> The pair decides to go exploring the city streets to get a sense of things, only to be met with weather abnormalities and an unfortunate plot twist.

                Yuuri’s eyes slowly fluttered open as he hazily tried to make out the world around him. Everything seemed slightly blurry and out of focus as he groped around the floor for his glasses. He had fallen asleep at some point during the night, but his sleep was agitated, shallow and anything but restful. A damp nose nudged its way into his hand, the blue framed glasses held between doggy teeth as Makkachin whimpered for attention. He grabbed the (slightly slobbery) glasses and wiped them on the edge of his shirt before placing them in their designated spot on his face. He gave Makkachin a few thankful pats on the head as he took stock of his current situation.

                He was on the sofa, presumably after having fallen asleep there, minus one pair of pants and plus one athletic Russian man holding him tightly, as though he was afraid that Yuuri might up and vanish the moment he woke up. He groaned slightly, shifting his weight so as to try not to disturb the sleeping man too much as he raised his groggy head towards the window.

                _Tap. Tap. Tap._

                The sound struck him almost immediately, he tried to place it but found it difficult to do so. As his eyes adjusted to the natural daylight that was gently streaming in from the large picture window, he realised just what the source of the delicate tapping sound was: it was rain.

                The sky outside was overcast, a light silvery grey as what appeared to be a light summer rain tapped against the windowpanes. It hadn’t rained for months, so the sound and sight had become unfamiliar, like an old relative who stopped by after years to comment on how much you’ve grown.

                _The rain… It hasn’t rained since… since a few months ago surely.  
                Does this mean anything?_

He cast his bleary eyes to the television screen, which would’ve once been a prime source of weather information but was now vaguely useless. _Still, it had been a source of consternation the night before, hadn’t it?_

Things started clicking back into place as he saw the new message emblazoned on the screen, boldly flickering as though it was perfectly natural for it to be there.

                 ** _00:00:00: 00_**  
                 ** _DAY 2. CARPE DIEM KATSUKI-SAN AND MR. NIKIFOROV!  
              _**                                  ** _большая любовь_**

                “Viktor!” Yuuri hissed as he felt his pulse quicken. Day two, whatever that meant, had begun. “Viktor please wake up…”

                The silver haired man made a slurring, groaning noise as he shifted under Yuuri, stretching his long arms skywards. He muttered something sleepily, but Yuuri could not make out what it was. He opened his eyes, which seemed slightly glassy and unfocused. A lazy smile had crawled onto his face as he settled his gaze on the slightly flustered IT worker.

                “Good morning Yuuri Katsuki…” He yawned, “I was just having the most pleasant dream. You were in it…”

                “That’s lovely Viktor…” Yuuri responded, a touch of a blush creeping along his cheeks as he tried to process whatever that sentence implied, “but I really think you should look at this. I have no idea what that line at the bottom means…”

                He jabbed his head towards the black expanse of the flat screen television, directing the other man’s gaze to follow suit. He watched as the friendly expression on his face turned to a scowl, his brows furrowing slightly and his lips twitching into a frown.

                “It means, _great love_ or _much love.._.” Viktor finally spoke, his voice sounding surprisingly sombre, “I think whoever put that there was trying to taunt us, seeing as we’ve been addressed by name.”

                “Why would they taunt us like that, though?” Yuuri asked, confusion painting its way across his face, “I mean, I don’t think they’d have any purpose in doing so, right? Unless they get their kicks messing with ordinary people like that. I mean, do you know anyone who would… do whatever the hell _this_ is?”

                Viktor shook his head, “I can’t tell you of anyone that matches that description. Perhaps it would be more practical to go investigate, see what we can find outside...”

                “That sounds like a good idea…” Yuuri said with a nervous nod, “the weather changed, by the way, I have no idea if it was the same for you but over here it was always really bright and mild ever since that incident with the clocks happened.”

                Viktor cocked his head to the side as though he’d never considered the weather before, “you are right, it was very blue and warm for the past four months in a row. I did not know if this was normal for the climate here or not, but I’ve taken note of it.”

                “F-four months?” Yuuri gasped, startled by the figure.

                 _He’d kept track of it for four whole months?_

                 _They’d both been alone for four entire months?_

                 _But then… if it had stayed the same for four months, why have things suddenly started changing so violently?_

                “I’ve been keeping track of things in my journal…” Viktor continued, taking stock of Yuuri’s confusion, gesturing towards the satchel he’d taken the vodka from the night before, “I would appreciate it if you did not read it, though. Personal things, lots of feelings and memories in there, very private.”

                 _So he kept a diary. That made sense, a good way to ground yourself._

                If Yuuri used his personal diegetic musical score to remind himself that he was real, that he existed, that he was tangible, then he figured that Viktor’s diary would’ve provided a similar sense of confirmation for him.

Viktor pulled a can of dog food from the satchel, popping the pull ring and plopping some of the unpalatable looking brown mush onto a plate. He wrinkled his nose slightly as if reminiscing about his previous experience eating it. Yuuri couldn’t begin to imagine what it would taste like, but clearly, Makkachin was into it as she bounded excitedly towards it, noisily wolfing it down, wagging her tail so hard her hindquarters vibrated.

                The pair hesitantly walked down the stairs after leaving their canine companion to her meal, their steps echoing in the silence around them. Yuuri had simply picked up his pack from the other day and his walking stick, figuring that there wouldn’t be much of a point to overburdening himself. It seemed like both were still ruminating on the meaning of the message. They had been called out, by name, and addressed in one of their mother tongues.

                _Surely that can’t be a coincidence._

The rain and bright, silvery light around them seemed almost foreign despite being ordinary meteorological phenomena. The sky above them, for the first time in forever, was blanketed in a uniform cover of pale grey clouds. Despite this, the world still seemed abnormally bright and saturated in colour, albeit slightly less so than it did under the cyan expanse that had proceeded. There was still something incredibly unnatural about the rain that made Yuuri crease his brows in concentration. They stepped out of the stairwell hesitantly, as though they were being born into a new world.

                “Carpe diem, Katsuki-san,” Viktor said in a blithe tone.

                “Much love, Mr.Nikiforov,” Yuuri replied with a weak smile.

                He held out a hand experimentally, as though to confirm his suspicions. Sure enough, rather than gently plopping into his palm and bounding off in tiny drips like water was supposed to, the raindrop simply phased out of existence. They all did, sometime before hitting any surface. The small concentric circles being made in the puddles on the ground were almost like surface texture animations, not actually corresponding to the patterns of the raindrops. He raised his head, peering into the slightly misty distance.

                If things were simply unusual before, they’d doubled down into _fucking_ _weird as all fuck_ with this rain that didn’t even act like rain.

                “Don’t worry about your hood,” He said to Viktor, still confused by the nature of things, “It’s not real rain. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s not landing on anything. You won’t get wet.”

                Viktor, who had been raising the hood of his jacket stopped, sticking out his upturned palm like Yuuri had a few moments ago, jumping slightly in surprise as the drop simply fizzled out of reality before making contact with his skin.

                “Pardon my French, but what the fuck?” The man said almost seeming delighted by the strangeness of the development.

                _Maybe he’s gone a little crazy then, I won’t blame him._

Yuuri casually depressed the play button on the Walkman clipped to his belt, almost out of habit at this point. He sighed gently as a bright keyboard melody filled the air, accompanied with a bouncy bass guitar and the beat of bongo drums.

**_Why do you build me up (build me up) buttercup, baby/ Just to let me down (let me down) and mess me around/ And then worst of all (worst of all) you never call, baby/ When you say you will (say you will) but I love you still…_ **

                Yuuri found himself absentmindedly humming the tune of _Build Me Up Buttercup_ along with the music. It brought back memories of his mother listening to it on the radio as she swayed gently along the kitchen, chopping vegetables, and preparing a large stockpot of broth to simmer while everyone was off at work at the family inn or school, in Yuuri and his little sister’s case. Somehow, she’d always radiated warmth and sunniness even if she was just as exhausted as everyone else was from their long days.

                It was entirely unlike these empty streets with their misty haze and strangely artificial rain. His hand gently brushed against Viktor’s, who took it in his own, lacing their fingers together. Yuuri was no stranger to holding hands with others (and, with friends like Phichit, platonic hand-holding was a given), but there was something about listening to songs about longing and heartache whilst walking hand in hand with someone as… well, _attractive_ , as Viktor that felt different.

                It was pleasant, but also made his skin feel abnormally warm. He hoped he wasn’t blushing, but knowing him he was probably turning beet red. Viktor’s hand felt strong and warm around his. It felt safer, _more real_ , somehow than anything had in a while.

                His thoughts were, however, rudely interrupted when his companion stopped brusquely. He was about to open his mouth and ask about the abrupt stop, but upon seeing the reason they’d stopped dead in their tracks he found he had no need. Instead, a hoarse, anxious laugh escaped from his lungs.

                There, in the place of the lovely little residential street where he’d met Viktor the day before, was a large, expanding, empty void, as though the pretty little painted houses had never existed at all.

                                 **_I need you (I need you) more than anyone, darlin'/ You know that I have from the start/ So build me up (build me up) buttercup, don't break my heart_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah thanks for all the kind words and feedback everyone, I'm so glad you're all liking this as much as I am so far!
> 
> I would love to give some hints or confirm/ deny some hypotheses I've seen, but that would ruin the fun. :3c
> 
> Not much to say about this chapter other than aww look they're holding hands, aww look they were sleep hugging awwwww!!! Too bad the great bloody nothing came and RUINED IT.


	5. A Million More Directions to get Lost in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon seeing the sprawling void, the boys ponder the nature of the situation they're in and the rules of the universe, which seem to have changed entirely since they went to sleep the night before.
> 
> ... And Yuuri has an AHA! moment.

                Yuuri stared at the void, his mouth agape as he laughed hollowly. He sunk to his knees as he gasped for air. Whatever dark, anxious thought had been bubbling in his head had crawled down his spine and collected into his chest, squeezing his lungs and heart in a vice grip.

                “This- This can’t be serious,” He choked out between heaving laughs, “what the actual fuck is going on?”

                Viktor stood wordlessly beside him, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as he surveyed the emptiness with a stoic glare. He leant over, picking a small stone off the kerb of the sidewalk. Yuuri watched from his spot on the floor as the silver-haired man heaved the rock into the empty chasm. The stone did not plummet, as the pair expected but rather skipped in the air as though on the surface of a smooth lake, settling at a point in the distance after a few ricochets, seemingly hanging in the air.

                Yuuri’s panic response intensified at the abnormal display, his laughter increasing in volume and pitch. His breath turned shallow as his eyes stayed fixed on the stone, watching it bob like a paper boat in a pond. His eyes turned to Viktor as he watched the man take a few slow, hesitant steps towards the edge of the road. He bent over, swiping an arm into the empty space, letting it curl under the corner.

                “Interesting…” The older man muttered as he stood back up, rubbing a thumb under his chin as he looked deep in thought.

                “No offence Viktor, but how the fuck is this _interesting_?” Yuuri hissed, his brain high on stress and adrenaline, “there was a street there yesterday, in case you didn’t know. I fucking remember you pointed a gun at my forehead here so, you know, it would stick out in my mind… but now we’re in a fucking Shel Silverstein _Where The Sidewalk Ends_ situation. That’s not something that’s supposed to happen.”

                “What I meant…” The man said patiently, clearly choking down a tinge of annoyance, “Is that it seems like anything that was originally here, like the debris, seems to be fine just… floating over there, but anything… well, like us doesn’t seem to be able to proceed past, how did you put it, the fucking Shel Silverstein _Where the Sidewalk Ends_ situation.”

                _Aww geez. Here he’s been employing the scientific method and I’ve just been freaking the fuck out like a twit…_

Viktor leant down again, gently reaching out a hand to Yuuri, trying to coax him back up to his feet. Yuuri took it tentatively, shakily clambering back to his feet. His knees felt weak and slightly weightless. His extremities tingled as tried to catch his breath, trying to stave off the impending panic attack that was threatening to take over his being. He fumbled with the drawstrings on his faded maroon hoodie, trying to give his hands something to focus on rather than trembling in the air.

                Viktor rested a gloved hand on his shoulder, slowly stroking his arm. Yuuri looked cautiously into his companion’s face, trying to find some solace in the half-hearted smile there. The other man’s eyes were warm but troubled. “What is this _Sidewalk’s End_ anyway?” he said softly, in a lighter tone.

                _He’s trying to diffuse the situation. It’s kind of cute really, if I wasn’t scared shitless I would probably find that endearing._

Yuuri cocked his head to the side, absentmindedly chewing a fingernail as he tried to remember how the poem he’d heard as a child went, “You’ve never read Shel Silverstein? I could’ve sworn everyone’s read at least one of his poems…you know, _‘There is a place where the sidewalk ends/ and before the street begins/ and there the grass grows soft and white/ and there the sun burns crimson’_ … and so on.”

                Viktor shook his head, “never got the chance… clearly, that missed me by. Still, strangely apt, don’t you think?”

                Yuuri nodded, casting a last look over his shoulder at the white, still expanse of misty white air. It looked almost as if someone had simply taken the eraser tool in a photo editing software and just erased a giant chunk of the world, “I think we should move from here. If this street is… missing, then maybe others might be missing too.”

**_Lean on me, when you're not strong / And I'll be your friend / I'll help you carry on / For it won't be long /'Til I'm gonna need / Somebody to lean on_ **

                The cassette tape player on Yuuri’s hip had continued on playing, blissfully oblivious to the melodrama playing out around it, moving from The Temptations right onto _Lean on Me_. The transition had gone unnoticed, uncommented on as the pair continued around the block, their hands tightly linked together. Viktor’s steps, Yuuri noticed, were quicker and tenser than they were before as he needed to work a little bit harder to keep pace. He didn’t blame the man, however, since as they circled the perimeter they found that the void around them appeared to have closed off the city, encasing them in what probably looked like a floating island drifting in the white misty nothingness.

_It’s kind of like the band on the Titanic right, just keep on playing as the ship fucking sinks. Not even a big deal. Sure, there was a whole REST OF THE CITY before and you know, rain used to act like rain before this nonsense but honestly weird is the new normal, right?_

                After what seemed like hours spent pacing this new border between what was physically there and what wasn’t, the silver-haired man stopped in his tracks, running his hands through his hair in frustration. He let out a loud string of curses that Yuuri was thankful he didn’t understand as he slumped onto the dilapidated stairwell of an abandoned adult video store. He buried his face in his hands for a moment, muffled expressions of frustration escaping from between his fingers.

                Yuuri sat next to him, digging through his rucksack, and pulling out one of the ripe tomatoes from the other day. He wrapped one arm around the swearing Russian and handed him the fruit with the other.

**_Please swallow your pride/ If I have things you need to borrow/ For no one can fill those of your needs/ That you won't let show_ **

                “Please try to eat something. I know it might not sound like the best advice in the world, but it’ll help you focus on something else, right?” Yuuri said hesitantly, “It’s like earlier when you had me think about that old poem. Don’t think I’m not wise to your psychological tricks... besides, they're organic so you know, good for you.”

                Viktor peeked out from between his fingers, grabbing the fruit tensely. He took a big bite out of it, which would’ve been unusual in any other situation, but with the amount of strange shit piling up around them, eating raw tomatoes as is was pretty mundane on the _crazy shit-o-meter_. He made a small satisfied noise in this throat as he chewed on it, clear juices trickling down his chin as he did. “You caught me red-handed, Yuuri. Grounding techniques 101, remove self from stimuli until situated in reality.”

                “Simple CBT, right?” Yuuri said with a smile, “I mean, not that it’s my field of expertise but you know, I looked into it for a while.”

                “Yeah, simple Cognitive-Behavioural Stuff.” The man said with a nod, reeling his arm back and chucking the half-eaten fruit into the flat white expanse that laid across the road before leaning back against Yuuri’s shoulder. The pair watched it bob gently along, held by aloft by the tension of an unseen surface. “So, organic matter floats too… Interesting.”

                “I grew them after the clocks counted down day one, maybe that has something to do with it,” Yuuri said as he watched the speck of red floating there. “What I don’t understand is… why suddenly change, why remove so much of our accessible area. It’s almost like we’ve been cornered in by some unseen force.”

                Viktor nodded grimly, “maybe we could build a boat and sail away?”

                “To where?” Yuuri asked with a sigh, “I’m thinking the outlook of anything else being out there is grim beyond all belief, right. I have no hypotheses as to why or how any of this is happening, but chances are if whatever’s behind it all has the power to remove a big ole’ hunk of land, I doubt they’d let us find Gilligan’s Island.”

                Viktor creased his brows pensively, his head cocked in a look of delightful confusion as he looked at Yuuri, “you really need to make these references more universal, Yuuri.”

                “It was a deserted island on an old tv- Never mind. Bad analogy. Strike that, ignore it,” Yuuri said, blushing slightly as he nervously shook his hands as if to clear away the previous sentence, “The point is that I’m pretty sure there isn’t anything out there. Whatever it is they want from us, it’s clear that it has to happen in this zone.”

                “So basically, what you are saying is that they’ve given us an objective of some sort?” Viktor said, narrowing his blue eyes as he gazed out into an unspecified point in the void, “it would make sense, the day only changed when we made contact. Perhaps the pawns need to make a move next.”

                “I mean, it could be complete bullshit and I could be entirely wrong, but I don’t think we have very many leads to follow…” Yuuri said hesitantly, running a nervous hand through his hair. He never really liked making definitive statements, hence why he’d always preferred the safety of theoretical studies. Theories, even if you had all the facts to back them up, remained theories until they were canonised as truth, so no one could blame him if they exploded in his face. Anxiety and uncertainty came with the terrain of being a human fainting goat.

                “No, it makes sense. The messages, the countdown warning, the ‘prize’ for clearing day one. It’s like a silly game made by silly children.” Viktor said, his eyes clouding over slightly as he seemed lost in thought.

_It’s kind of like we’ve just been given a million more directions to get lost in…_

                Yuuri leant back on the stairwell, staring into the calm grey expanse of cloud cover. The rain continued falling around them, making gentle pattering noises on the awning despite the fact that, as they had previously established, the rain never hit it. The air was still and temperate and was the current situation not quite so uncanny it would’ve been pleasant weather.

                The situation wasn’t dire per se, not entirely. There didn’t seem to be any impending danger on the horizon (or much of anything, to be quite honest), just a particularly troublesome mystery developing. No matter how hard he picked at the knot, it didn’t appear to be coming any closer to becoming undone.

                _A duck, a duck,_ he thought with a sardonic smile, _my kingdom for a rubber duck._

                “There has to be a clue we’ve overlooked,” Yuuri muttered quietly, half-aware that Viktor had jumped at the sudden interruption, “let’s see… we woke up after the countdown had passed. it wouldn’t make sense to simply send the player in a game on a quest without giving them some sort of a hint as to their mission, so they must’ve left us a clue somewhere.”

                Viktor nodded quietly, his hand resting on his chin in a pensive manner that reminded Yuuri slightly of a leaner Rodin. His eyes were bright, unblinkingly attentive as he silently absorbed the information.

                “We assumed that the message had been a taunt, but what if it was a clue? We’ve been given invisible walls to reign in our play area, so there must be somewhere that we need to be. I mean, somewhere other than the overhang of _Adam and Eve Adult Video…_ ”

                Yuuri could’ve sworn he saw the slightest twinge of a smile quirking its way onto the Russian’s face as the aha! Moment settled into his mind.

                _It’s a name._

 _Carpe Diem. Seize the Day. It’s a name._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri is referring to the practice of Rubber Duck Debugging, a technique for working out bugs in computer code wherein a programmer explains, line for line, what the code is supposed to be doing to a little yellow rubber ducky. 
> 
> Turns out a Viktor™ is a pretty good substitute for a ducky, in a pinch.


	6. Friday Nights at The Daylight Lounge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri go to the CLUB!  
> I wish I was kidding, but that's the basic gist of it. They go to the club and then things get weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where that violence tag comes into play, just some heads up there is some unpleasant stuff at the end of the chapter, but it does end with Yuuri petting a dog so hopefully that makes up for the massive what the fuck moment.
> 
> as an added bonus, more booze and also what might be this universe's version of the gala are involved so that's also something. :>

               The daylight had started to wane behind the thick cover of clouds, casting a dark shadow over the city streets. The automatic streetlamps flickered to life, the neon orange light reflecting off the damp pavement. Neon lights and shop signs buzzed to life, giving the city a living quality despite the fact that it should’ve been dark and silent.

                This was yet another change, Yuuri noted. Prior to this evening, the city went to sleep with the setting of the sun, becoming a dark, silent entity under a carpet of starlight.

                The vibrant rainbow of colour flickered across Viktor’s features as he kept pace with Yuuri, his silver hair catching the light and gaining an iridescent quality. It was strangely beautiful, slightly hypnotic and made Yuuri thankful for the man’s company.

                “So, just to be clear,” The other man said as they made their way deeper into the downtown area, putting more distance between them and the edge of the city with each step, “you think they were telling us to head to this _The Daylight Lounge_.”

                Yuuri nodded, a spring in his step, “Well, it’s only a hunch, but it’s better than just chucking shit into the nothingness, right?”

                “That’s true,” Viktor laughed, it was a warm, light sound that made Yuuri’s chest swell a little when he heard it, “but do you even know where we’re going because I don’t think we can just pull over and ask for directions.”

                Yuuri rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue in mock annoyance, “of course I know where I’m going. It’s not like I could ever forget.”

                Viktor raised a curious eyebrow, his blue eyes twinkling under the streetlamps. Yuuri could’ve sworn that he saw a million colours blending in and reflecting back at him under those long pale lashes. The effect was mesmerising, but not quite as mesmerising as the man’s amused smile. The mood had certainly shifted since earlier that afternoon…

                “I mean, it’s kind of an embarrassing story…” Yuuri said, blushing a little at the blurry flashes of memory that threatened to creep to the forefront, “So promise not to laugh at me if I tell.”

                Viktor’s smile widened a little more, the corners of his eyes crinkling as it did. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we all have stories we’d rather forget. I’ll do my best, Yuuri.”

                “Alright so, remember how I said I went to school for computer sciences?” The dark-haired man started as the pair turned down another brightly multicoloured street, “or maybe I didn’t… in that case, I went to school for computer sciences. Anyway, there was a conference in the city once, and my thesis supervisor decided I should present some of my work along with my pal Phichit. He was the one in that weird memory thing from last night, by the way…”

                “I had gathered as much,” The older man said with a nod, seemingly imploring Yuuri to continue.

                “But yeah, so I uh, went to present my thesis about transhumanism and VR technologies… I mean, that sounds super obtuse but it’s mostly about how we can use virtual settings to improve the human condition and things like that. You know, allow you to explore growth and self-actualisation without needing to put the physical body through undue stress, that sort of thing…” Yuuri said hesitantly, not quite realising that the story would require that much explaining, “That doesn’t really matter, though. The point is that I kind of entirely fucked up the presentation. Like an imploding supernova of fucking blowing it. If they give Guinness world records of blowing it, I won a whole ten-page spread in the 2017 edition…  Well, Phichit convinced me to go out for drinks afterwards, you know, to forget my regrets and celebrate his victory in networking with a bunch of tech bigwigs, and the place was full of people from the convention so I uh, got wasted and I don’t remember the rest of the night but Phichit says I decided to start stripping on one of the tables and then I made out with this guy for the rest of the night. Woke up with my tie wrapped around my head, missing my pants and my phone was dunked in the toilet… Anyway, this was the place where that all happened I guess.”

                Viktor’s eyes widened as Yuuri spun his tale of woe. His cheeks seemed slightly pinker than usual, but it was hard to tell under the multicoloured glow of the lights around them. “Do you usually go out and uh, make out with guys all night?” he said, coughing behind his fist as his eyes flittered to a particularly interesting spot on the floor.

                Yuuri’s face flushed a bright red, realising that he’d run his mouth again, “Ah, n-no that’s not a habit or whatever. I- I just have a tendency to uh, lose it when I get drunk. I blame dad he’s uh, the same way…”

                “Do you remember his name?” Viktor asked curiously, still a little pink in the face.

                Yuuri shook his head. “Like I said, it was an embarrassing drunken blur. Besides, there’s like a two-hundred percent chance that he was way too good for me.” He added with a casual shrug. Ever since he was young he’d been surrounded by human beings that were much higher on the proverbial pedestals than he was, but he was alright with that. It was his lot in life and he’d accepted it.

                Viktor gave him a sympathetic smile, reaching out and gently tussling his hair. “Don’t sell yourself short, Yuuri. You’ve survived all alone this entire time and that’s incredible.”

                Yuuri smiled shyly. Praise had never particularly sat well with him, but Viktor had a way of making it seem sincere. Finally, they rounded a brightly lit street corner into a small side road, the kind of street that was just out of the way enough to be mildly inconvenient but not entirely out of the way enough to be free from the heavy foot traffic of the downtown area. Still, foot traffic and crowds were no longer a concern for the two of them anyway, so it didn’t really matter. The neons of the local businesses had all been illuminated in colours that seemed slightly too bright, but the real particularity of the situation was, for the most part, that they were all hazy and out of focus, the light refracting off the otherworldly raindrops and spreading into blurry halos.

                Except, of course for the yellow sign that burned into the night like a beacon, bright and bold. The crisp outline of the cursive lettering made the name stick out as though it was printed on a sheet of paper, searing the words _The Daylight Lounge and Nightclub_ into the night. The words made Yuuri’s chest tighten slightly from anxiety, a mixture of residual memories and the anxiety of being a step closer to understanding the mysteries that were unfolding around the pair. He felt himself giving Viktor’s hand a nervous squeeze, his clammy palms rubbing against the rough, thin fabric of cheap thermal gloves.

                Viktor gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his hand back, nodding wordlessly as they made their way to the large tinted glass façade of the building. The handles of the doors were thick, granite blocks that were probably meant to make the whole place look a lot classier than it really was, but Yuuri was thankful for the relative cool of the polished stone as he felt his body temperature rising rapidly, apprehension and tension making his limbs seem heavy and sluggish.

                They pushed the door open, entering the threshold together. As they did, the lights inside came to life, cool blue neons lining the edges of the ceiling, dance floor and bar casting a slightly sickly tinge onto their skin. The ceiling itself hummed as the large flat screen that was laid on its surface turned on, projecting a video feed of a bright, sunny sky from which the establishment got its name. Music blared to life from an unknown source, some sort of bouncy song that Yuuri was unable to identify.

                Yuuri stepped onto the empty dance floor, the lush orchestral funk-inspired music clashing with the unsettlingly still atmosphere of the empty club. Usually, the place would be full of loud chatter, people laughing and drinking and grinding drunkenly against each other on the dance floor. Instead, everything felt like a parody of the bar on a busy night. The trappings and fixings were all there, but without the chaos of human activity and life, it all seemed strangely hollow. The floor had been equipped with some sort of touch screen that would typically show a pattern of light blue footprints where its occupants stepped, matching the whole light gimmick of the bar, and usually it was almost entirely illuminated but in this case, it only showed Yuuri’s lonely steps fading back into the darkness.

                “Yuuri!” He heard Viktor calling from over on the bar. “Come over here please!”

                Yuuri snapped out of his thoughts about the unsettling nature of an empty nightclub and quickly made his way to the bar area. There, he saw what Viktor had been concerned about. Two bright blue mixed cocktails had seemingly been set out for the pair, their names neatly printed in black ink on paper napkins that had been wedged under the martini glasses, Yuuri’s in Kanji, and Viktor’s in what seemed to be Cyrillic characters.

                Bright and bouncy horns with an electronic backing track played joyfully in the background as the pair pondered the beverages laid out in front of them, uncertainty gnawing at their minds. Yuuri’s previously chipper demeanour had melted away, replaced with a mixture of anxiety, confusion, and determination to get to the bottom of this peculiar scenario.

                The obvious answer was to drink these, yes, but at the same time, there was something that seemed dangerous about the idea of imbibing something that had simply been set out like this. The bright, Windex-like colour of the beverages notwithstanding, the fact that they’d been apparently addressed to the pair was not a particularly comforting one.

                _One makes pill makes you larger, one pill makes you small… go ask Alice when she’s ten feet tall, right?_ Yuuri thought to himself, stirring the bright blue liquid with the little plastic straw that stuck out of the side of the wide-brimmed glass. Small bubbles rose to the surface as the fluid was disturbed by the movement. It seemed like a normal cocktail, probably one of the overpriced speciality drinks that were trendy with the upper-middle-class yuppie types that made up the establishment’s normal clientele. He gave Viktor a nervous glance. His brows were furrowed as he gave the beverage a cursory sniff, probably checking for poison or something. He was staring intently at the napkin, as though if he looked at it hard enough he would find some sort of secret etched out alongside his name on the white surface.

                _Oh, fuck it, if I die now it’ll at least be whilst being drunk._ Yuuri thought as he lifted the drink to his lips, tipping it back hesitantly. Viktor, noticing the movement, looked slightly puzzled and afraid as he watched Yuuri take a first tentative sip from the brim of the glass.

                The beverage was incredibly sour, with a flavour that reminded Yuuri a little bit of a melted popsicle, mixed with a hint of sharp raspberry. There was a smooth, bitter kick under the initial layer of tart sweetness which Yuuri figured was whatever top shelf booze was mixed in with the raspberry liquor. It tasted slightly nostalgic, like candy, fairgrounds and summer days, like the sort of thing that would leave a bright blue residue that would stain your mouth for a few hours.

                He gasped sharply as he finished the drink. He looked Viktor in the eye, the fuzzy bubbling feeling of strong alcohol rising in his chest and face, painting his cheeks with a warm blush as it did. The drink had been the same abnormally bright blue that Viktor’s eyes had been on that summer afternoon that they’d met.

                Upon noticing that his companion hadn’t fallen down to the floor and died due to poisoning, Viktor lifted the glass to his own lips and drank, his brows tightening slightly as the sourness hit his tongue. Yuuri couldn’t help but smile slightly as he saw the small quirk on the silver-haired man’s face. Clearly, he wasn’t used to sour things.  He cast his eyes down to the empty glass in his own hands, slightly lamenting the fact that he didn’t know how to mix something like this on his own. He noticed a small object lying in the shallow, flat bowl of the glass. He picked it up, holding it up to the neon lights above them. It seemed like a small, light blue plastic lens of some sort, flat and shaped like a slightly rounded rectangle. He flipped it over a few times, observing the way the light passed through it. Viktor seemed to have noticed a similar object in his own beverage, as he was holding a matching… whatever this was, cocking his head slightly as he pondered it.

                “Sunglasses?” The Russian finally said, sounding unsure. “I had a pair this colour once, but I broke them during a party.”

                Yuuri shrugged, holding the translucent blue plastic to his eye, looking through it. He jumped as he did, yelping in surprise. The lens seemed to have some transformative effect on the world around them if looked through, the projection on the ceiling and touchscreen dance floor looking more like the familiar blank stretches of black with plain text prompts.

                Instead of a clock or timer, however, a pale blue sans-serif font simply said, “ ** _Please look in the lost and found for objects you have misplaced. The management thanks you._** ”

                “lost objects?” Viktor said as he replicated Yuuri’s actions.

                “I think that means they want us to look there for some reason?” Yuuri responded with a shrug. He wasn’t certain if they’d lost anything, but it made sense.

                The pair made their way across the dance floor to a small hallway, lined with matching neon lights. The music seemed muffled there, almost as though it were miles away as they passed the blue doors that lead to a pair of restrooms labelled “standing” and “sitting” respectively.

                _That’s oddly progressive._ Yuuri thought to himself as they reached the lost and found, which was a small desk at the back of the hallway, with a small repository of lost things behind it. Presumably, one had to describe whatever they lost and an employee would go look for it.

                They stepped over the desk into the dark space behind it, neons lighting up as they did. _They had certainly committed to the theme_ , Yuuri figured, _to the detriment of practicality_. He squinted in the dim light as he and Viktor walked towards a row of shelves lined with various objects. Some seemed like standard things one might drop during a night out, neglected ID cards and house keys and phones, but some seemed a little more exotic, like the set of fuzzy handcuffs, the model replica death star and a copy of the holy bible.

                “I have no idea what we are looking for,” Viktor said with a chuckle, “but if we need a crop top that says WORDS CAN’T HURT ME MY SHADES ARE GUCCI then I found that.”

                “I mean if it’s my size…” Yuuri responded with a laugh, “I can pair it with this hat that has a picture of a sasquatch stitched into the front and this feather boa.”

                “I mean, it is a look Mr.Katsuki.” His partner responded, returning to the act of looking through the refuse on the shelf, “but I think we might need to find a method to our madness. I think this here is an actual dildo and I can only pray no one used it before losing it in the club.”

                Yuuri nodded. He was right, they had no idea if they were even supposed to be here… He flipped the plastic lens in his hand again, figuring that it couldn’t possibly hurt to try again.

                Sure enough, a light blue sheen covered the shelving area, a bright glittering thing sparkling a few rows over as he looked through the object. He gravitated towards it, Viktor close behind him. As they approached it, they saw that the luminescent object was a CD-ROM.

                It looked ordinary enough, the unmarked mirrored surface reflecting the dim light of the neon lights. There was something about a seemingly blank CD sitting on the shelf in a lost and found that was vaguely reminiscent of a spooky internet ghost story.

                _I bet there’s hyperrealistic blood on it. Maybe even an angry ghost. Boooo._

He was sure it was just the hazy warm drunk feelings that were making him think such silly things.

                He was going to grab the stupid thing.

                _Fucking stupid quest. Stupid outmoded technology ghosts. Who the fuck uses CD-ROMS anymore…_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

                He immediately regretted the decision the moment his fingertips brushed against the smooth polycarbonate plastic surface. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but his head was spinning. A sharp, searing pain spread through his fingers into the rest of his body as he made contact with the compact disk. His heart pounded as he cast a panicked glance at the space around him, which looked like it was collapsing in on itself. Viktor’s face was contorted into a silent scream as he grabbed Yuuri’s shoulder.

                Yuuri, the nightclub, everything, was disintegrating violently. Every single atom in his body was racing in a million different directions as he felt a sharp heat spreading through his fingers into his chest and torso, setting every single one of his nerves on fire. He was sure he was shouting, positive it wasn’t in English, and even more certain that it was laced with sharp sobs.

                This had to be what dying felt like. He was positive it was what dying felt like. He tasted iron in the back of his throat as he felt his eyes screw shut.

                _DON’T._

_LET._

_GO._

_KATSUKI._

_PLEASE DON’T._

_LET GO._

He wasn’t sure if the voice was real or in his head, but it was Viktor’s. Albeit, Viktor if Viktor was several miles away talking through a tin-can-telephone.

                He clutched onto the CD-ROM violently, even if it seemed to intensify the pain racking through his body. His skin was peeling back, revealing anatomically incorrect muscles and bones underneath.

                And then there was nothing but the sound of shouting and crying and a loud bang in his ears.

                Then silence.

                Darkness.

                Nothingness…

                _Yuuri dot EXE has fucking crashed dude._ Yuuri thought to himself, unsure as to whether or not he could even think. He didn’t even know if he was still alive, or if the darkness in front of him was a particularly boring afterlife. _A reboot would be nice about now. This blue screen fucking situation fucking blows._

                Then, he felt a warm, wet feeling on his face.

                _Licking?_

                His eyes fluttered open slowly, tentatively, as though he was sure he was going to see some pretty fucked up angels and demons level shit. What he was met with, however, was disappointingly mundane.

                 There he was, on the couch in his apartment, Viktor’s leather jacket draped over his body. Makkachin had climbed onto his chest and given him a few courtesy doggie kisses. Next to him, Viktor sat on the floor in a white t-shirt and his dark jeans. His eyes were rimmed with dark circles and slightly bloodshot as he scribbled notes violently into a black, leather bound notebook.

_Oh right, his journal._

                “We saw some shit, didn’t we. That night was weird…” Yuuri said weakly, lifting a hand into a lazy sunbeam that crept in through the picture window, relieved to find skin on his fingers. “I think that one tops the last time I went to the Daylight Lounge.”

                He fell asleep again after a weak laugh at his own lame joke, burying his fingers into the coarse, curly coat of one dog and letting the other hand trail into the silky tresses of one human. On the windowsill, the light glinted off the reflective surface of a CD-ROM, but that was going to have to wait...


	7. Hungover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events that transpired at the Daylight Lounge, Yuuri and Viktor take some time to relax on the rooftop before deciding to deal with the mysterious CD ROM situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delays in between chapters, I was in my exams and final papers phase of the semester so most of my time was filled with academic writing D:
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys keep enjoying the story, this chapter's a bit slow but I figured Yuuri needed the rest.
> 
> the album they're listening to is Yes' 90125 which is one of my favourites. Quite different to the prog-rockier 1970s output, but very good if you like 80s dance-rock.

                Sunlight gently streamed into the room, teasing Yuuri’s eyelids as he slowly opened his eyes. A groan bubbled into the back of his throat as he sat up, the heavy leather jacket that had been draped across his torso slipping off slightly. His head was woozy, achy, and full of fog as he took stock of his situation.

                This felt like the worst hangover he’d had in a while.

                He rubbed his eyes with his palms, gently trying to coax wakefulness into his being. He yawned, pulling the jacket up around his shoulders to fight a mild chill. It was surprisingly nice, lined with wool and worn in just the right spots. It smelled slightly like men’s cologne, coffee, and cigarette smoke. The mixture should’ve been vaguely unpleasant, but something about it made Yuuri feel strangely at peace, as though he was cloaked in a blanket of calm and familiarity.

                He’d smelled it before, but in his hazy tired mind, he couldn’t quite place why it was so familiar. He’d reasoned that it was probably because it was what Viktor smelled like, so it would be entirely logical that he’d recognised it.

                He absentmindedly slipped his hand into a pocket as he organised his thoughts, slowly waking up after what seemed like an abnormally long rest. He skimmed his fingers along a smooth, folded piece of scrap paper, perhaps a receipt or something of that nature. He curiously pulled it out of the pocket and read the note written in black, scratchy ballpoint pen on the back.

                “I am on the roof if you need me. I hope you sleep well. – Vitya”

                Yuuri blinked a little in surprise, pushing his glasses (which had fallen askew at some point during his long impromptu nap) up his nose. He didn’t really think they’d been on a _friendly nickname_ basis just yet, but he supposed that they’d been through more than enough together to warrant a few lifetimes worth of friendly nicknames at this point. He stretched, slowly walking towards the door, grabbing a pair of water bottles on his way out and making his way up the stairwell to the rooftop access.

                It was a cramped, dark space with dim lights, rarely used by most of the building’s inhabitants. He had quickly gotten used to making his way up the neglected, slightly creaky stairs so the lack of lighting didn’t matter much, but it did make exiting to the roof a little problematic as it felt as though the daylight was stabbing his eyes with a pair of bright, sunny daggers to the cornea. He squinted into the light, feebly raising a hand to shield his eyes.

**_You, lose yourself , no not for pity's sake/ There's no real reason to be lonely/ Be yourself, give your free will a chance/ You've got to work to succeed_ **

                A summer breeze seemingly carried the deep, rich notes of the vinyl record that was playing on the turntable. The record had been inherited from his father, one of the few he owned prior to the… situation they were in. Despite the fact, he hadn’t previously owned a turntable to play it on, he’d kept it as a sort of talisman, a lucky charm. Now, after all these years, it had overtaken the digital media he’d been so fond of and was finding use again, carrying the voice of Jon Anderson into the lonesome air as _Owner of a Lonely Heart_ played on.

                As his eyes adjusted to the light, he took in more of the tableau, remarking that the scene was almost picturesque. Viktor was sitting on the concrete edge, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as he absentmindedly stroked one of the two black hens (possibly Phichit, but admittedly Yuuri had trouble telling the two birds apart) as it rested on his lap. At his feet, Makkachin was gently snoring, having tired herself out with some sort of doggy antics prior to the moment. Viktor’s skin was flawless, milky and pale in the summer sun, with the dark fabric of his t-shirt and gloves contrasting sharply giving his complexion an almost otherworldly quality. His hair fluttered in the wind, a curtain of silver catching the light and reflecting it.

                His eyes matched the supernaturally blue sky and were trailing out into the distance, focusing on some unseen point in the distance as he looked deep in thought. He raised his hand and took a drag off his cigarette, exhaling a long trailing cloud of smoke after he did.

                It was beautiful. Yuuri felt a slight pang in his chest, as though he was intruding on something deeply private. Instead, he tried to shake the feeling off as he walked out into the brighly lit space, clearing his throat as if to announce his presence to an easily startled animal.

                “Uh, so Yes then?” He asked, trying to make some sort of conversation.

                 The other man’s head snapped towards him, causing the fat bird in his lap to skitter to the floor, clucking almost indignantly as it landed clumsily. He had been pulled out of some sort of deep reflection, clearly. He nodded, putting out the cigarette on the rough concrete of the ledge. “Yeah, I remember listening to them on the radio before all this happened. I was surprised to see it in your collection, I hope that you don’t mind me borrowing it Yuuri.”

                “Oh, no, of course not. I don’t mind at all. If ever you need anything just go ahead...” He said, smiling as he made his way to the coop to place the clearly ruffled hen back inside. He handed Viktor a bottle as he sat down next to him once the little chicken melodrama had played itself out. The commotion had almost been enough to rouse the sleeping dog, but after opening a lazy eye and offering a cursory bark of mild alarm she’d just settled back into her sunbeam. “How long have you been up here?”

                “A few hours I suppose,” Viktor said as he took an appreciative sip from the bottle, “the weather is nice again and you looked absolutely exhausted…”

                “I noticed… aren’t you a bit chilly up here with only short sleeves?” Yuuri asked, “I can give you your jacket back if you want.”

                Viktor shook his head, a smile curling onto the corner of his lips. “I’m alright. I must say it suits you though.”

                The compliment made Yuuri’s cheeks feel slightly warm as he took a sip of water and looked out into the vista. There was still a stretch of emptiness out on the horizon, but it seemed less foggy and more reminiscent of a salt-flat from the distance. It almost looked as though one could simply step into it and walk forever…

                _Better not chance it with the Gerry move though._ Yuuri thought to himself as he listened to the thumping guitar and bassline of the 80s dance-pop hit. “How long was I out anyway?”

                “About two or three days…” Viktor said with a sigh and a smile, “You woke up a few times, made some absolutely morbid jokes and went back to sleep. I managed to get some water and tomato-soup-in-a-cup into you though. It's not much, but better than dog food though… It was positively domestic, really.”

                “that long?” Yuuri said, almost choking on his sip of water. The events that had transpired at the Daylight had been… Indescribable, yes, but he didn’t figure that they would knock that much out of him. “So, they changed the uh, day, then?”

                “Yeah, at some point after we got back to the apartment the clock counted down to day three. You can check on my phone if you want, it should be in one of my pockets.”

                Yuuri searched in the ample pockets of the jacket, thumbing over a lighter, a set of keys and finally a flat smartphone. He pulled it out of the pocket, making sure not to comment on the case which seemed to be patterned with what looked the replica of some sort of  costume. Sure enough, the screen was completely blank save for a counter that had elapsed and a message printed under the flickering row of zeroes.

****_CONGRATULATION KATSUKI-SAN AND MR. NIKIFOROV. HAPPY BREAK TIME!_  
                INSERT MEDIA DISK TO CONTINUE.  
                HAPPY HOLIDAY FROM ANIMA AND TRICKSTER. <3 

                “I didn’t want to try anything without you,” Viktor said, leaning closer over Yuuri’s shoulder. “I must admit I’ve been rather hesitant, isn’t that sad?”

                “That’s not sad at all…” Yuuri said, his brows furrowing as he examined the names printed at the bottom of the screen, “I mean, we did watch my hand basically explode. I figure that would rattle anyone enough to be wary.”

**_Sooner or later each conclusion/ Will decide the lonely heart/ (Owner of a lonely heart)/ It will excite it will delight/ It will give a better start/ (Owner of a lonely heart)_ **

                They let the music fade out as an awkward silence settled between the two. They’d been forced to face some pretty strange shit, and admittedly it was slightly unnerving that neither of them seemed any closer to finding an answer or reason behind any of it. Yuuri looked down at his hands, almost expecting to see threads of  sinew unravelling around strangely warped bones…

                He shuddered. No wonder Viktor was nervous, he hadn’t really thought about how unnatural the image must’ve been from his vantage point.

                Still, part of him needed to know, even if it meant more… whatever the fuck had happened at the nightclub.

                “Do you want to try now that I’m awake?” He found himself asking despite himself, his voice taking on a tinny, muffled quality, as though it were coming out of a broken speaker rather than his own voicebox. He took that as a side effect of the foggy, throbbing headache.

                Viktor nodded, “only if you’re comfortable with it Yuuri. I believe it would be the best option, but I wouldn’t want to put you through… _that_ again.”

                Yuuri shrugged, “what’s the worst that could happen, I mean I already know what my skin looks like when it’s flaking off my body in a million directions at once so I figure I can handle anything that’s on that disk, right?”

                Viktor smiled, patting Yuuri on the shoulder, “that’s actually quite disturbing. I must admit I didn’t peg you as someone who had quite so dark a sense of humour.”

                “Is that a bad thing?” Yuuri asked, his face feeling hot again “I’m sorry if it is, I didn’t mean to dist-“

                Viktor tussled Yuuri’s hair in a friendly manner, chuckling fondly. “Don’t be silly, Yuuri. I like this, seeing these unexpected layers. It’s like an adventure.”

                “An adventure?” He repeated, casting his eyes down awkwardly. No one had ever compared him to anything like an adventure before. He’d always just accepted that he was kind of an utterly boring social recluse slash shut-in, a supporting character thrust into the spotlight by virtue of being the only one left to bask in it… or at least, that was the case until Viktor had arrived.

                _I’m not even a sympathetic protagonist in my own life…_

                If anyone was an adventure, it was probably Viktor. Despite vaguely knowing who he was, the man was still somewhat of an enigma, guarded but warm. There was something about the man that made Yuuri want to unravel the mysteries in those pale blue eyes.

                “I don’t know about that, Viktor. I’m not going to lie, the more you peel back, the less there is to like in here.” Yuuri said, trying to push those thoughts out of his mind. The last thing he needed in his life was more mystery.

                Viktor smiled softly as he stood to his feet, his fingers still absentmindedly fluffing Yuuri’s hair, the dark gloves blending into the short, messy black hair in a way that made it seem as though they were vanishing. The smile didn’t quite make it all the way up to his eyes, which seemed oddly sombre for such a lighthearted dismissal. “Oh Yuuri, I think that’s true of everyone, isn’t it? We all carry things that are best unseen. If I may, I’m pretty sure that regardless of what happens I would find myself liking those parts too.”

                The taller man roused the sleeping dog with a gentle brush of his foot, beckoning her with a click of his tongue as she stirred. The two of them made their way down the stairwell, leaving Yuuri alone with the sounds of Yes and the infinitely spanning blue sky.

**_You can fool yourself/ It can happen to you/ You can cheat until you're blind  
It can happen to me/ You can cut your heart/ It can happen to everyone eventually_ **

Yuuri jumped to his feet, flipping the switch on the turntable and lifting the needle to silence the music. He felt his face tingle with a blush as he thought about the meaning behind Viktor’s words. They’d caught him off guard in a way that made him feel very peculiar.

                _I bet he wouldn’t say that if he knew what a loser I am…_

He let out a choked, derisive laugh as he ran his fingers through his hair, the spot where Viktor’s hands had been only a few moments before seeming strangely warm and tingly. The stairwell seemed strangely long as he made his way back home.

                _He’s only saying that because you’re literally the last man on earth, Yuuri._

                Viktor greeted him with a warm smile, handing him a cup of instant coffee as he walked into the door. Yuuri took it gratefully, trying to ignore the pitter-patter of his heartbeat as his fingers brushed gently against the thin fabric of the thermal gloves on the other man's hands.

                The pair wordlessly made their way back to the sofa, sinking slightly into the worn and comfortable surface. On the small coffee table in front of them was the CD they’d retrieved from the nightclub and Yuuri’s laptop. Yuuri shuffled closer to Viktor as he anxiously opened the screen, revealing a gleaming black expanse with green text burned into it. No matter how often he'd seen it, it seemed unnaturally super imposed on the monitor. His eyes flitted to the CD ROM as he anxiously touched the surface with his fingertip, almost expecting reality to disintegrate around him again.

                It felt like an ordinary disk.

                He lifted it cautiously, observing it as he did. There were no scratches, and outside of some dust it seemed in good condition despite having been housed for god knows how long in a lost-and-found. He cast a quick glance at Viktor, whose body had tensed as though he was expecting the worst to happen.

                He gave the other man a squeeze on the knee as he popped open the CD tray on the side of the computer, which rarely got used since most of Yuuri’s dealings were with digital files and media, as most people’s were in this day and age.

                The computer whirred slightly as he popped the CD tray shut. Suddenly, what appeared to be an old-school game launcher popped up, showing a plain, white splash screen adorned with small pale blue flowers. The flowers themselves weren’t what interested Yuuri, however.

                Viktor made a strange, choked noise as Yuuri moused over the two buttons that appeared under the pixelated blossoms, which were labelled in a language the man could not read. He muttered something under his breath, but Yuuri could not make it out.

They read **Отрицание** and **Правду** respectively, in white on a blue background.

                 “Click the second one,” Viktor said solemnly, a wry smile spreading on his face, “It says _truth_. Unless you think _denial_ is better, I leave it up to you.”


	8. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys investigate the CD Rom situation and immediately dredge up some old wounds for Viktor
> 
> and another cryptic message, of course.

                Yuuri clicked on the button with great apprehension, causing a plain white loading screen to appear in place of the program launcher. He watched as the pale blue loading bar slowly crawled along the bottom of the screen, a sense of foreboding building up in his mind. If this was anything like the last time, there would be something that should not possibly exist on that CD showing up on the screen very soon.

                He looked at Viktor, who was wordlessly absorbed in the progress of that small horizontal stretch of eternity, his eyes focused and unblinking. His face was reminiscent of an animal with its leg caught in a snare, staring ahead calculating eyes, absorbing every fraction of data about its surroundings in order to plan an escape. His muscles were taught, almost rigid with tension as his jaw clenched, a steel trap through which no words could escape.

                Part of Yuuri wanted to wrap his arms around the other man, but something told him that it was best to give him some space.

                The room was eerily, disquietingly silent as they watched the bar progress, a slash of blue in a stretch of white. The only sounds in the room were the beating of their hearts and the gentle mechanical whirring of the disk spinning in the CD tray.

                _98%. 99%. 100%._

_Welcome Back._

                The plain white screen was replaced with a title menu showing a cheery blue logo adorned with small pale blue flowers on a snowy backdrop, with fluffy white snowflakes gently fluttering down from the top of the menu. It was labelled “ ** _TRUTH- The past I’m running away from (because there’s nothing left for me there)_** ”, although there was a strangely floaty quality to the text on the monitor, as though it was being run through a faulty real-time translation application that was superimposing English text over what Yuuri assumed were Cyrillic characters like the ones on the program launcher.

                This had not been left for him.

                Yuuri moused over the options, of which there were two. Exit and Start.

                _That seems evident enough, if not a bit limited._

He looked towards Viktor, who gave him a stiff nod as if to implore him to hit the start button.

                As he did, he was met with a first-person view of a white, sterile-looking room. They appeared to be sitting up in a bed, looking out a window framed with sheer curtains. Next to the window was a bedside table with a glass pitcher of water, an accompanying glass, a stuffed poodle and a small vase with a bouquet of pastel blue flowers inside. They were forget-me-nots if Yuuri was not mistaken.

                Outside the window, a gentle snowfall was covering an empty street. The sky was cloudy grey as fat snowflakes slowly drifted down onto the streets below, blanketing the facades of the buildings across from them.

                The entire scenario was peaceful but had an eerily disquieting note to it as well.

                A tiny knock sounded from the laptop speakers as the scene transitioned to a still frame of a woman entering the room. She was stern-looking, dressed in a white coat worn over a smart purple dress shirt and black trousers. Her black hair was pulled back into a high bun, giving her sharp, angular features a somewhat exaggerated quality. Her eyes were intense, glimmering pale green under the frames of red glasses. Overall, she looked as cold as she did professional.  

                The scene was playing out like a visual novel, and Yuuri had a good guess who the protagonist was meant to be. Sure enough, the voice exiting the speakers was that of the man sitting next to him, albeit younger-sounding than the real deal. He felt a squeeze on his hand as he pressed the enter button, progressing the scene forward.

 

 

> _Viktor: Doctor Baranovskaya._
> 
> _Dr Baranovskaya: Good morning Viktor. How are you feeling today?_
> 
> There was no response as the man simply continued looking out the window, his eyes seemingly avoiding the woman who had entered the room.
> 
> _Dr.Baranovskaya: Mr.Nikiforov, you need to cooperate with me. I understand that you are feeling distressed but it is imperative to your recovery that you tell me if there are any changes to your situation._
> 
> _Viktor: It feels foreign but it doesn’t hurt as much anymore. The drugs are working._

The doctor shook her head, looking slightly peeved. This must’ve been a conversation the two of them had repeated quite often, and from the looks of things that was not the answer she was seeking.

 

> _Dr.Baranovskaya: I have been informed that you refused to eat again today Viktor. I am aware that a clear liquid diet is unpleasant, but your body needs the nutrients in order to recover from your procedure. You do want to recover, do you?_
> 
> _Viktor: …_
> 
> _Dr.Baranovskaya: I am aware that this situation must be shocking to you. No one expected things to progress like this, for it to spread so fast… It must be causing you quite a lot of pain. That being said, you will simply never be able to return to the way you once were, Viktor. That man is gone, I suggest you make peace with that thought._
> 
> _Viktor: I put everything I had, everything I wanted to become into that man, Dr.Baranovskaya. There’s nothing left for me. Even if I recover, even if I go into remission and live a normal life, I can never go back to the things I left behind. Life, love… everything I had was back there on the ice._

                Yuuri looked over at Viktor as the choked voice exited the speakers. He was incredibly still, his pale blue eyes open wide, glazed over as they stared ahead to the scene that was playing out before them. His lips were pulled back in a tight smile, one that read less as an expression of joy and more as the stress response of a cornered animal baring its fangs in warning. His hands were clenched in tight fists on his lap.

                “Viktor, are you going to be-” Yuuri started asking, his face painted with an expression of deep concern. He’d never seen the other man look quite as distressed, as though every muscle in his body was screaming at him to escape.

                “Keep... Going.” Viktor interrupted in a strained voice, as though he wanted Yuuri to do anything but hit the little arrow that allowed the dialogue to unfold.

                Yuuri narrowed his eyes as he gently placed his left hand on Viktor’s lap, gently stroking his warm thigh. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to…”

                “I don’t but… Well, it won’t go away if we don’t. Sorry, it’s just…” Viktor sighed gently, clearing a cloudy layer of tears out of his eyes with a soft blink. He spoke quietly and slowly, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

                “Painful?” Yuuri suggested with his best attempt at a warm and reassuring smile, “You can hold my hand if it helps. I’m here for you.”

                Viktor buried his face in Yuuri’s shoulder as he gave a slight nod. His hand slid slowly down his thigh to meet Yuuri’s, his fingers unfurling and intertwining with the other man’s until they were linked. They sat for a moment, silent except for the sound of Viktor breathing gently, trying to steady his heart rate and still his shuddering shoulders. After a few moments spent in silent contact, Viktor lifted his head resting it on Yuuri’s shoulder, seemingly needing that layer of physical contact (which Yuuri did not mind).

                He clicked the continue button.

 

 

> _Dr.Baranovskya: Don’t be ridiculous Mr.Nikiforov. You are stronger than that. I am aware of the extreme… importance you’ve placed on your exploits and I understand that this is quite a change. However, I believe in your infinite capacity to evolve, Viktor. You have the strength to change, to be reborn. That will be your strength, Viktor._
> 
> _Viktor: …_
> 
> _Dr.Baranovskaya: I’ve seen your academic records, and your potential is extraordinary. However, you must grasp that potential, Viktor. You can choose to do that, or you can dwell in the past. The choice is yours, you are whatever you make of this situation. Our invitation, once the recovery process has gone far along enough, is still open. Do consider coming to the Institute instead of chasing a ghost._

               With those words, the woman on the screen turned around, not a hair out of place in that dark bun. She pushed the glasses up her nose, taking notes on her clipboard in a brisk manner.

 

> _Dr.Baranovskaya:  Please think about what I’ve said. You have further testing scheduled at 2:30. Make sure to actually show up this time._

               With that, the screen faded to black, the window containing the program closing instantly. Yuuri jumped, startled by how abruptly the scene had ended. He turned towards Viktor, who was still resting against his shoulder. His blue eyes seemed unfocused, cloudy and flat as he looked at his hands, one of which was still in a tight fist and the other linked with Yuuri’s. His face was no longer tense, but rather replaced with a strangely hollow melancholic expression, as though a skeleton had been dredged up from a closet deep within his hippocampus and exposed to the bright, blinding light.

               Whatever he had seen on that disk was not something he’d wanted to think about or consider… And yet, it was frustratingly vague. Surely, it had something to do with the reason they were here, otherwise, it wouldn’t have been left for them, but at the moment Yuuri had no leads. He considered asking his companion a million questions, but there was something about how flat and dull, almost doll-like, his blue eyes were.

               “I was sick…” Viktor began, as though he had read Yuuri’s mind, “I was sick a lot as a child. It went away for a few years and I thought I was alright but… as you can see, it came back to haunt me again.”

               “So you were in the hospital for a long time then?” Yuuri asked carefully, as though he were treading on a thin sheet of ice, “that sounds like it was painful for you.”

               “It came back right as I was starting my career… did you know I used to be the junior world champion? I set world records, and I was on my way to becoming an Olympic level athlete too. Isn’t it funny, I was such a coward about it, such a stupid, stubborn child clinging onto that. Like I was going to be able to immediately hop back onto the ice and continue after they-,“ He stopped suddenly, his thought interrupted by a coughing fit.

               Yuuri put a hand on his back, his palm spread out over the warm planes under the older man’s scapula as he watched that head of silver hair lurch forward, shuddering like a curtain with every cough. He shivered slightly, gently patting his back as the other man finally stabilised. He lifted his head, his expression almost apologetic as he fixed those bright blue eyes into Yuuri’s dark ones.

               “It doesn’t matter, it’s the past now.” He said in a grim monotone, a disingenuous smile spreading on his lips as he spoke, “I got better in the end. That man is dead and gone like Lilia said, I was reborn.”

 Yuuri quirked a brow but figured that his companion had meant to close this chapter and end this conversation then and there. He swallowed his questions and gently stroked Viktor’s back, noting that he could feel the traces of his spine and shoulder blades under the thin black t-shirt that the man had apparently borrowed from Yuuri’s closet.

_It fits him better anyway, even my slumpy depression clothes look good on him. It’s almost unfair really…_

               Yuuri’s eyes travelled to the screen before them, which still displayed the now-typical row of zeroes along with a new message.

 **BREAK OVER~!**  
**HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS SPECIAL PRESENTATION!!!**  
**DID YOU MAKE THE RIGHT CHOICE? TIME TO THINK!!!**  
**\- LOVE, ANIMA AND TRICKSTER.**

 **  
**_I swear to god I am so tired of these fucking mysteries…_ He thought to himself as he furrowed his brows. _Someone is going to get a stern talking to…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been brought to you by energy drinks, the persona best of 20th anniversary soundtrack and a copious amount of hurt/comfort :'>
> 
> everything is cryptic and we are like 8 chapters in with very few answers I'm so sorry.


	9. A Little Night Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor settle down after a long, emotionally charged day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DOUBLE UPDATES LADS!
> 
> this is more of a transition chapter, but I really felt like we needed a bit of a break from the heavy emotions because I'm a sucker for that sweet wholesome supportive comforting junk.
> 
> Also like 9 chapters in we get our FIRST LI'L SMOOCH! It's nothing huge but I'm happy about that!

                The evening had been quiet, as the sun slowly sank into the flat emptiness. A crescent moon took its place in the night sky, radiating a silvery glow that seemed far too bright. Yuuri rubbed a temple in irritation as he watched it get blotted out momentarily by a drifting cloud. It was always at a crescent, no matter how long they were trapped in the empty world.

_What a lazy day/ night cycle. At least change it up a little, asshole._

                Despite the stillness around them, the night had been anything but tranquil. Viktor curled up on the edge of the windowsill, pulled on what must’ve been his fourth cigarette, scratching desperate notes into his leather-bound journal, occasionally mumbling something under his breath. Yuuri fruitlessly tinkered on the laptop, trying to get to a CD content directory, dos prompt, _anything_. He knew that it was fundamentally useless, but part of him was filled with a manic, frustrated restlessness that threatened to make him chuck the thing at the wall.

                He didn’t understand it, but something about seeing Viktor so utterly shaken by the contents of the disk made him feel a vindictive sourness.

                He let out a frustrated groan as he flopped back onto the sofa, flinging his arms up in the air in defeat.

                “Nope, not happening. Fine.” He said as he stretched his cramped shoulders out, “I guess our only option is to keep playing along with this stupid thing.”

                Viktor lifted his head from its bowed position, putting out the cigarette in the makeshift ashtray he’d made out of a coffee tin. The moonlight framed him in an almost unfairly beautiful way, making him look like some sort of ethereal creature spun from light. It made him look almost vulnerable, filling Yuuri with the indescribable urge to protect him, hold him tight and keep him safe… despite the fact that he was clearly older, stronger and taller than him anyway.

                “Should you be smoking those anyway?” Yuuri asked as he lolled his head over the back of the sofa, his dark hair hanging over the edge. It was slightly overgrown, but not in a fashionably dishevelled way, much to his chagrin. If Viktor was an otherworldly light creature, then Yuuri figured he was more of an unkempt goblin.

                 “Don’t deny an old man his simple life pleasures, Yuuri,” Viktor said, shrugging his shoulders.

                Yuuri narrowed his eyes, indulging him, “okay fine, how old are you?”

                A mischievous smile quirked its way onto Viktor’s lips, “Twenty-eight. I’m almost ancient, the other day I found a grey hair…”

                “Never mind that they’re all grey, Viktor… you are much too young to be saying that.” Yuuri said, rolling his eyes pointedly. He couldn’t help but smile at that vaguely lopsided grin, “try to quit though, okay? It worries me...”

                “Actually, they’re platinum, but I’ll let that one slide…” Viktor responded with a nod, climbing down from the windowsill. He stood over Yuuri, a warm twinkle in his eyes as he peered down at him, “besides I can’t stay mad at you when you look so cute upside down like that.”

                Yuuri felt his face get incredibly hot as the taller man reached down and gently tapped his nose with an outstretched index finger. He knew that he was probably turning beet red judging by the tingly sensation in the tips of his ears. He quickly sat back up burying his face in his hands for a moment.

                “New rule,” Yuuri muttered from between his fingers, “you’re not allowed to call me cute ever again because I seriously might implode if you do.”

                Viktor cocked his head to the side again, a facetiously innocent smile accompanying eyes that were opened slightly too widely. “Why not? It’s true Yuuri.”

                He shook his head dismissively, “you’re incorrigible Viktor.”

                “That’s my middle name,” Viktor said with a laugh, gently rustling Yuuri’s hair with his fingertips. “It’s getting late, we should probably get to bed. Knowing this situation, tomorrow will be a long and inherently frustrating day.”

                Yuuri nodded, “I’ll sleep on the sofa if you want the bed, I don’t mind. I’m kind of used to it since I used to fall asleep on this thing a lot anyway. Lots of late-night binge-watching Netflix marathons and all that.”

                “I was hoping you would join me…” Viktor said quietly, “to be quite honest, I’ve gotten used to having you here and I’m quite afraid of being alone.” He played with a strand of hair as he spoke, his eyes shyly drifting away from Yuuri’s startled glance.

                “Alright but uh, just so you know I’m not really used to this sort of thing… Sorry if it gets weird or whatever.” Yuuri muttered as he stood up nervously, making his way towards the bedroom with rigid, embarrassed movements. The bedding on the old double bed he’d bought himself as a graduation present seemed to have been laundered on one of the days he was out…

                _Has he been preparing for this?_ Yuuri thought to himself.

                The room had never been much to write home about, furnished with the bed, a dresser and the desk where his useless desktop computer sat neglected. A few of his favourite plastic models had been displayed on that desk, mostly monsters and giant robots from movies and cartoons he’d watched with his dad as a kid. A few posters for movies, games and shows were hung on the walls, giving it the impression of someone who hadn’t quite been ready to leave adolescence behind. He was almost embarrassed as he looked at the bed, with his childhood Star Wars bed sheets, calculating that they would be slightly cramped but would both definitely fit.

                “Sorry, it’s such a mess… and you know, so… like that.” He muttered as he searched in the dresser for a pair of pyjamas, pulling out a pair of dark sweats and a grey shirt from the comp-sci department’s old fundraising car wash and flinging them to Viktor.

                “Don’t worry about it,” Viktor said as he caught the clothes in mid-air, “it’s charming. I never would’ve imagined you living in a space like this one. God knows it beats the stark white minimalism I'm used to…”

                “Minimalism?” Yuuri asked as he quickly peeled off his t-shirt, slipping on a new shirt and pyjama bottoms before he had a chance to get self-conscious.

                “Yeah, my apartment is very bland, but it’s what my employers give us… not to mention, the hotels we stay in. They’re very into the sleek and modern thing that makes it look like no one has ever lived in the rooms. They’re like fancy morgues…” Viktor answered as he pulled off the black t-shirt. Yuuri couldn’t stop himself from looking a little too intently as the man changed, noting the sculptural, wiry form of his athletic torso. He was definitely a creature built for elegance and speed, toned and conditioned without being entirely bulked out. The smooth, uniformity of his skin was broken up by what looked like some thick, dark scarring snaking its way from his stomach to his collar bones, creating a painful looking Y. He wanted to run his fingers over it, trace the ridges and roughness of it with his fingertips and somehow absorb more of that secret history through the touch.

                “Well,” Yuuri said, flopping onto the bed, and staring up at the ceiling before his thoughts got too _uncomfortable_. As comfortable as the other man seemed to be with casual physical contact (which Yuuri found himself remarkably thankful for), he didn’t want to breach any unspoken taboos or betray any of the fragile trust that had been placed in him. “There’s like literally nothing fancy here. I once heard one of the rats living in the walls complain about unreasonable accommodations…”

                _Can you please, please for once in your life not be this thirsty and gay Yuuri? Do we need a repeat of every other time you got a crush on a dude that was too good for you, too straight for you, too whatever…_

Viktor flopped next to him after turning off the lights, curling into the space next to Yuuri and filling it with warmth. “Can I hug you please?”

                _Ok fuck the keeping your distance plan, we’re going down his road instead. Sounds good. Sounds natural. That plan was bullshit anyway._

                “Oh, uh, yeah,” Yuuri stuttered, “you don’t have to ask or anything. I was gonna offer but I didn’t know if you… if it was okay after everything this afternoon.”

                “I would like that very much…” Viktor said as he rolled over, wrapping a powerful arm around Yuuri’s torso. The other man’s hand felt strangely cool on his warm, soft stomach. He felt a slight shiver of self-consciousness at the contact on what he figured was a _problem area_ , but it melted away quite quickly, leaving room for a warm, gentle feeling. “You’re so warm and soft... I really missed you when you were out of it.”

                The other man’s voice seemed strangely small in the dark, as though he was still choking something back.

                “I’m sorry Viktor. It’s okay, I’m here now. We’re here together and we’re going to be okay. We’re going to figure out what’s going on and we’re going to find the answers together,” Yuuri said, meeting the other man’s hand with his own, gently laying his palm over the back of the cool hand.

                They laid in silence, the lines of Viktor’s body seamlessly aligning with Yuuri’s back. Hard angular muscles juxtaposed with soft, gentle curves and rolls. Yuuri listened to the soft rhythm of the other man’s breath as Viktor nuzzled his neck in a manner not entirely dissimilar to the first night they spent together. It made Yuuri feel like flowers could sprout from his body, whatever that meant.

                “You don’t have to apologise Yuuri…” Viktor murmured softly, his voice a gentle whisper in Yuuri’s ear, “you’d been through so much. You needed rest. I just got worried…”

                “I’ll be okay Vitya…” Yuuri responded sleepily, “I don’t intend on dying anytime soon.”

                “I’ll hold you to that,” Viktor said, his breath tickling Yuuri’s neck, “I won’t let you.”

                Yuuri could’ve sworn he heard a tinge of something serious in Viktor’s voice, as though it had come from a place deep within himself. Still, he figured it made sense for him to be somewhat anxious and protective…

_I mean, he did see my hand and god knows what else get spaghettified, and then he had his childhood medical trauma thrown back into his face. I’d be scared of losing me too in his shoes…_

                "Can I kiss you?" Viktor asked, his voice small and uncertain. It was entirely unlike his usually self-assured demeanour.

                Then again, the uncertainty suited him too, in a strange way. He supposed that it had something to do with the fact that they were both slowly peeling away the outer layers, exposing the ugly vulnerable parts that laid underneath.

                It felt _real,_ like a small slice of Viktor Nikiforov that no one else was privy to.

                "I would love that, Vitya..." Yuuri whispered.

                Viktor's lips were warm, soft and hesitant on the back of the younger man's neck. The kiss was almost inexperienced, chaste and delicate. It made Yuuri's heart flutter with a warmth that filled every cavity in his body.

_I don't know if I'm utterly fucked or not but that was so good I don't even give a shit._

                He wouldn't push for more. He let himself drift off, surrounded by the warmth of Viktor’s body and the faint aroma of cigarette smoke, men’s cologne and instant coffee.


	10. April Showers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a good night's rest, Yuuri and Viktor hit the streets to investigate their new clues, only to be met with more unusual natural phenomena...

                Yuuri’s eyes fluttered open hesitantly as he woke up, his head still bleary and woozy with half-remembered dreams. It was a dream he’d often had since the countdown elapsed on that Wednesday morning ages ago.

                He never remembered it upon waking, only slight traces of it. Images, feelings, sensations blended together in an effervescent haze that hung over his head as he woke up, elusive and confusing. This morning, he couldn’t help but remember the cold feeling of something sharp cutting into his skin, digging into his spine, severing nerves and inserting something new, something foreign there. He shivered as he wondered just what sort of imagery that sensation could’ve accompanied.

                The part he always remembered though, were the voices. People talking in a droning jumble, hundreds of conversations meshing together just barely out of reach for him to understand, like the ambient sound of a crowded public place. He did always manage to pick out a few phrases that seemed important enough before waking up…

                Today’s seemed to be a voice Yuuri did not recognise, one whispering into his ear excitedly as though the speaker was sharing a delightful secret, distorted and pitch shifted as though it was passing through a vocoder. 

                _Don’t worry Katsuki-san, I’m going to help you. It’s going to be great, trust me._

                The words seemed innocent enough but decoupled from any context or face they sent a second chill down his spine. He tried to chase the lingering thoughts from his mind as he gently nuzzled his way against Viktor’s sleeping form. He gently wrapped a hand around him, resting his fingertips on the other man’s neck.

                _What are we now? Did that kiss mean anything deeper, or am I just overanalysing things…_  he thought as he absentmindedly traced abstract pathways along the other man’s skin. As he gently ran his fingers along the warm ridges of the sleeping man’s spine he felt something unusual… a small raised surface on the back of his neck, usually hidden under the curtain of silver hair, nestled under the base of his head. It might’ve been a scar or a birthmark but there was something almost inorganic feeling to it, as though something had been slipped under the thin layer of flesh, a tiny square of something artificial.

                But he might’ve been imagining it because of the nightmares (or at least, what Yuuri figured were nightmares. They were certainly unsettling enough to be classified as such).

                He closed the space between him and Viktor. Part of him was sure that he’d been through something… something highly unpleasant that the other man refused to bring out into the light. He knew better than to try to force it though. Instead, he tried to focus on slowing his heartbeat, which seemed to have gone into overdrive at some point over the restless night. He shifted his thoughts to pleasant things, like the softness of the Death Star print duvet, the gentle tickle of a few stray silver tresses dangling over his shoulder, the pressure of two bodies sinking slightly into the mattress, the other man gently brushing a knee over the reason Yuuri had been so reticent to share a bed, drawing out an involuntary sigh.

                _Ah yes. That’s a thing, isn’t it… WAIT, THAT’S DEFINITELY A FUCKING THING._

                Yuuri bounded out of the bed almost violently, pulling down the oversized Gundam t-shirt he’d slept in to try to camouflage the reason sharing a bed as an adult man with a dick was most definitely awkward. Roused by the commotion, Viktor raised his head lazily, his blue eyes slightly unfocused and hazy with sleep.

                “’You alright?” he asked rubbing at an eye with a lazy fist.

                “Yeah, it’s nothing, go back to sleep.” Yuuri spat a little too quickly. “I’m just going to take a shower okay?”

                One incredibly _refreshing_ shower and shave later, Yuuri made his way into the living room, trying his best to stifle a yawn now that his crisis had been averted. He sat on the sofa, waking the dog that had been occupying most of the space until then. He stroked her curly fur absentmindedly as he looked out the window. The sun had risen at some point and was glaring brightly over the landscape. The sky was a bright, almost overbearing cyan hue, uninterrupted by cloud cover. Overall, it seemed like the weather had returned to being sunny and mild.

                It was almost monotonous but better than any alternatives.

                He turned his gaze to the message emblazoned on the screen, frowning as he tried to make heads or tails of what it could mean.

                “Did you make the right choice, time to think…” He muttered, thinking aloud. He narrowed his eyes as he rested a finger on his upper lip. If this was anything like the last ordeal, they’d be sent on a scavenger hunt to some cryptic location to find whatever it was they wanted the pair to find.

                On one hand, he thought the first line must refer to the choice they’d made upon launching the program contained within the disk. The program that he could no longer access. Then again, with these people, he could never be entirely sure.

                “Good morning,” Viktor muttered as he leant over Yuuri’s shoulder, planting a kiss on the startled man’s cheek, “getting an early start I see?”

                “I didn’t think you’d be awake yet…” Yuuri said, stretching as he did. “Did you sleep well?”

                “Better than I have in days,” Viktor replied with a cheerful smile, giving the poodle next to Yuuri a friendly pat on the head. “I think it would be a good idea to hit the streets later if you don’t mind. From the roof, I didn’t notice that anything had changed but you never know.”

                Yuuri nodded, “Yeah, it would be best. I’ll make some breakfast and then we can head out I guess.”

                He stood up, making his way to the kitchen, turning on the hotplate and setting a pan on it. He leant over as he opened the refrigerator door, pulling out a couple of eggs, some carrots, celery and an onion. As he bent back up, his arms burdened with ingredients to make some omelettes, he noticed that Viktor had followed him. He gave him a curious glance, raising an eyebrow as he started chopping the vegetables.

                “I thought I could help if you’re alright with that,” Viktor said, sounding almost bashful. He smiled gently, his hair dishevelled and his eyes still heavily lidded from the long time he’d spent asleep. With the grey fundraiser shirt riding up somewhat and the old track pants riding down, he channelled an entirely different vibe than the usual kind of flawlessly beautiful one he usually had. It was adorably casual, in a vaguely dorky way (although, no one could make that graphic of an old IBM 7094 with googly eyes look dignified).

                “Oh sure, you can deal with the onions if you’d like. It helps if you peel them under running water first,” Yuuri said with a smile, “at least, that’s what mum used to say. You can use the water bottles in the fridge since I’m not too sure about how good the tap water is to ingest anymore.”

                “You said something to that effect when we first met…” Viktor said as he starting pouring water with one hand and attempting to peel the vegetable with the other, “did your mother cook a lot?”

                “Yeah, the family used to run a small inn and she’d cook for the dining room there whenever the cooks couldn’t make it,” Yuuri said as he moved onto the celery next, carefully making sure to scrub off any dirt he’d missed on the green stalks. “We lived there for a while, but then we had to sell to some big corporate chain that wanted to incorporate _local flavour_ into their line of hotels and that was that. She went to work at the local library and dad went to work as an accountant.”

                “That sounds too bad,” Viktor said with a sigh, “That’s progress for you.”

                Yuuri shrugged as he beat the eggs in a bowl, mixing in the chopped collection of greenery as he did. “It’s not so bad, I mean, we were all a bit bummed out about it but it was that or have them simply open a better one nearby and go bankrupt. We still all did what we could I guess.”

                They finished making and eating breakfast in relative silence, pausing to give Makkachin her own breakfast of unpalatable slop from a can (which seemed vaguely unfair compared to the relatively nice egg and veg Yuuri and Viktor were having, but she seemed to enjoy it enough for it not to matter). Viktor got dressed and returned to the living room looking a lot less sleepy-eyed and a lot readier to take on whatever the day had in store for the two as they packed up some supplies and made their way down the stairwell.

                _I guess it’s kind of nice not to have to talk all the time too._

                Yuuri shielded his eyes as he stepped out into the light. The daylight seemed harsher and brighter, than it did earlier, washing the world out in flat hues. The air smelled vaguely floral, like the scent of a flowery meadow after a summer rain despite the fact that the setting they were in should’ve been typically urban. The floral aroma made the air seem almost thick, with an underlying saccharin sweetness that felt almost artificial, like the scent of something decomposing and fermenting in the sun.

                It made the hair on the back of Yuuri’s neck stand on end.

                As Yuuri’s eyes adjusted to the harsh light, he looked at the streets around him, surprised at the sight of dozens of flower petals skittering across the pavement and fluttering in the air, their pale blue hue blending with the sky above. The blossoms gently floated from an unspecified source, as though they were pieces of confetti thrown from unseen parade cars.

                _Forget-me-nots._

                Yuuri’s brows furrowed slightly, his nose wrinkling as he tried to get used to the heavily perfumed air.

                “They’re not supposed to smell like anything during the day,” Viktor said finally, “They start smelling in the evening and at night. Whoever made this happen probably never saw forget-me-nots in real life, only photos…”

                Yuuri nodded, “do you think this means anything… besides making me want to vomit, I mean.”

                Viktor shrugged, “possibly. I can’t tell you if this is anything more of a quirk of our dear friends sirs Anima and Trickster though.”

                Yuuri swept a hand absentmindedly in his hair, which was starting to get tussled by the summer breeze, making it whip about along with the fluttering of the flower petals. Surely, the fact that forget-me-nots had been so prominent on that program on the CD-ROM had something to do with the unnatural shower of petals. He outstretched a hand, trying to catch one of the errant blooms.

                As the soft blue petal touched his skin, it fizzled away much like the raindrops had the day before. Unlike the rain though, the feeling of the dissolving petal was accompanied with a sharp stinging sensation that travelled through his arm, pooling in the back of his neck for a moment. Yuuri stepped back, dazed as a half-second image flashed behind his eyes. It was too fast for him to make out, but he imagined that whatever it was couldn’t be pleasant.

                “Hey, don’t touch them,” He yelled, “I don’t know what the deal with these is, but it hurt. I would not recommend that experience, zero out of ten.”

                Viktor nodded, “I’ll keep that in mind. Shall we follow where they’re going? The wind seems to be dragging everything in the same direction, and I figure it’s a good place to start.”

                The pair followed the petals as they dragged down the empty city streets, walking closely. Viktor had wrapped his arm around Yuuri’s waist at some point, tucking him closer to his chest as though to shield him from some unidentified danger. From a distance, it would’ve probably seemed like a pleasant, possibly romantic moment: Viktor tall and strong, protectively cradling the shorter man as they walked together under a shower of flowers…

                Which made everything seem more surreal in Yuuri’s eyes. It was almost like some demented scene out of a shoujo manga. All that was missing was a stuttered confession, some sparkles and maybe a _kabedon_ to complete the portrait.

                Still, it was nice to walk close to the other man, even if they were occasionally stopped by the sudden jolt of another petal making contact with an exposed limb. Despite the alarming frequency at which it would happen, the image that seared under his eyelids never remained long enough for him to make any of it out.

                Yuuri was pulled out of his thoughts as he saw what he became convinced was their destination. The building was tall, made of gleaming slabs limestone and reflective mirrored glass glazed in bright gold. The awning of the building was held aloft by white columns and covered in luxe golden lettering that was currently obscured by clusters of forget-me-not blooms, sprouting out of various cracks in the façade. Large, creeping stems wrapped their way around various parts of the building, dotted with new growths as the flowers bloomed and wilted at an unnatural speed. The sickly, syrupy smell of rot and flowers was so potent that Yuuri couldn’t help but cough.

                This had to be the source of the rain of petals, as little sense as it made. He felt a lurching sensation in his stomach, akin to mourning as he looked over the front entrance of this building that was once so incredibly familiar to him.

                Viktor cocked an inquisitive eyebrow as he covered his mouth and nose with the hand that was not currently wrapped around the smaller man.

                “This is my old campus… Or at least, one of the buildings. The comp-sci classes were all mostly on this pavilion, but we shouldn’t have been able to make it here in such a short time…” Yuuri replied, raising a hand to his chin as he narrowed his eyes in thought. This particular building should not have been anywhere near his current apartment building, he was sure of it. The topography of the city must’ve been altered at some point, as impossible as it seemed. Not to mention, it was flanked by two administrative centres, which seemed to be absent. In fact, everything to the left and right of the building seemed to be absorbed by that large flat stretch of nothingness, in which errant blue petals occasionally drifted.

                _Lazy design. It’s almost as bad as just putting invisible walls on either side of the road._ Yuuri thought to himself. Whoever was setting this up seemed to at the same time enjoy cryptic puzzles and irritatingly vague methodology and getting straight to the point. He figured that it was probably since there were two named figures involved at the very least. _Unless we’re dealing with Billy-no-mates who had to make up a friend to seem less lonely._

                “Yuuri, as interesting as I’m sure the geographic location of this building compared to the distance of your apartment is, I think we’re neglecting a very important question here,” Viktor said, gently stroking Yuuri’s cheek as if to bring him back to reality.

                “What would that be?” Yuuri asked, cocking his head to the side.

                “Well, why are we here, and more importantly, how the hell do we get inside?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about anyone else, but the street I live on is this little side street in an industrial park and it has many blooming plants and trees that grow fruit which I love, but it means that after the flowers are done blooming the petals fall everywhere and it absolutely reeks of sickly sweet rotting plant matter (which only gets worse after it rains), which may or may not have inspired this chapter.
> 
> also TRIPLE UPDATE because I felt a little bad for not actually moving the plot forward that much last time. :>


	11. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor breach the entrance, only to be met with the regrettable side effects of the plants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another combo update because I also posted a chapter of the other AU no one asked for so I figured I would post a chapter here too.
> 
> Things get a little messed up, a little more confusing but we're HOPEFULLY getting some answers very soon!

                Yuuri watched the thick, almost fleshy plant stems curling around the handles of the front door, a cold shiver working its way down his spine as the flowers exploded into a shower of wilting petals within mere seconds. No matter how many times he watched the cycle play out, there was something genuinely unpleasant about it. They’d walked around the perimeter of the building, only to find every single possible entry point was similarly covered in azure forget-me-not blooms.

                “I think,” he said slowly, “we should just force it. I have the hunting knife, so if we cut through those stems we should have a few seconds to break in without getting too beaten up.”

                Viktor’s eyes narrowed as he considered Yuuri’s plan, “borrow my jacket at least, it’ll cover you up a bit so hopefully, there will be less exposed skin for these things to touch.”

                Viktor peeled off the jacket, gently wrapping it around Yuuri’s shoulders. He smiled warmly, stroking his cheek with a gloved hand. Yuuri raised his arm, taking the hand, and holding it there against his face for a while. They stood there, absorbing each other’s presence for a moment as the pale blue petals swirled about in delicate patterns. Yuuri stood on his tiptoes, perhaps emboldened by the nature of the situation they were currently in, and grazed Viktor’s lips with his own in a chaste kiss. The other man’s lips felt soft and hesitant, surprised against his own. The taller man gently slid his arms around the other’s waist, pulling him closer, deepening their embrace.

                He gazed into the seemingly infinite depths of those blue eyes, filled with fondness and love, and felt like he could die at this moment entirely satisfied. Instead, he simply smiled, planting a more confident kiss on the other man. This time, not taken by surprise, Viktor reciprocated, parting his lips slightly to allow Yuuri to deepen the kiss. He felt long, delicate fingers weave their way in his coarse dark hair as they embraced. After a few moments spent melting into each other’s touch, the pair pulled back from each other, hair dishevelled, lips slightly bruised, smiles pulling on their cheeks.

                Yuuri glanced at the door, his heart beating hard as he watched another cluster of flowers die rapidly after their birth. He would have a few seconds before the cycle was complete. Viktor nodded at him, letting go with a look of mild disappointment.

                If everything went right, there would be more time to keep rapidly falling in love later. For now, they were men on a mission, even though that mission was nebulous at best. He walked up the staircase, avoiding a snaking vine as he did. He swallowed, his mouth feeling incredibly dry as he drew the black hunting knife from it’s home on his belt. He’d never really used anything like this before and was vaguely surprised at the heft of it in his hand. He took a deep breath and hacked at the thick stem that was wrapped around the door handle.

                Immediately, it made a hissing noise, as though it had been a wounded animal. There was a strange, inorganically meaty texture to the plant as it resisted the blade. Yuuri swung again, severing it. As he did, a warm, watery bright blue fluid ran, spraying in chaotic droplets. He grabbed the handle and swung the door open, wincing as the liquid hit his neck and face.

                He’d once accidentally dropped scalding coffee on his leg, leaving a large burn on his calf. That pain was nothing like the feeling of this mysterious, sweet smelling liquid on his exposed skin. It seemed to burn into his flesh, snaking its way towards the tip of his spine. He let out a hoarse yell as he called for Viktor to quickly make his way into the building before the flowers regrew, overtaking both the door and himself.

                Viktor responded, tackling the smaller man, and effectively propelling the two of them into the entrance hall, away from the caustic liquid.

                Yuuri laid on the cold tile, gasping for air as he tried to comprehend the images that were flashing through his brain. Whatever effect the blooming flowers had, it was nothing compared to the potency of the… well, he was going to call it sap for lack of the better word. He could see it in his mind’s eye, a memory.

                Or at least, what he assumed was a memory.

                It was too vivid, too real to be anything else. The gentle rocking of a subway car, crowded as usual on a busy rush hour evening. His earbuds shoved deep into his ears to avoid any conversations and stray words from the commuting public, pumping a continuous flow of soft pop music into his ears. His hands, trembling as they held his phone, a feeling of excitement welling in his heart. An E-mail addressed from the _Feltsman Institute_.

                … _Please consider this offer, we would be honoured to have your expertise on our staff. You have been very highly recommended, and as such would have priority level employment opportunities at our new California location. Thank you for your time and we hope to hear from you soon._

_Sincerely, Drs. Lilia Baranovskaya an-_

And then a sudden jolt, lights flickering, a loud bang and the sounds of screaming. Panic. Warm bodies jostled in a tiny space. His phone flying out of his hands, shattering in the dark space. The piercing scraping of metal on metal. Another bang. A child screaming. Desperate hands searching to stabilise his body as it lurched forward with a violent momentum. Glass breaking. Sharp pain as his wrist ended up under something incredibly heavy. Bones breaking. Tendons snapping. A sharp dull aching thud on the side of his head. More screaming.

Nothingness. Nihil. The void.

                Darkness with no chance of light.

                _Am I going to die here before my life finally began? That sucks a fat one._

                Yuuri clutched at his head as he looked over at Viktor, who was also curled on the ground in a fetal position. His eyes were twitching, as though he were going through REM, his muscles stiff and clenched. Eventually, his eyes settled, his breathing steadied and his muscles relaxed. It was clear that the flowers had gotten him too, but thankfully it seemed like the effects were temporary. He gently put a hand on Viktor’s shoulder.

                “Are you okay?” He croaked, “thanks for getting us in here…”

                “Yuuri… I never knew. I never… how it felt…” Viktor said in a quiet tone as he slowly phased back into reality. His eyes seemed glassy, full of sadness and understanding of some awful truth. “I’m alright, but what about you?”

                “Well I mean I won’t be using that as my nightly skincare routine, but I’m okay I think. I have no idea what that was all about… You saw it too right?” Yuuri said, massaging his aching neck with his palm.

                Viktor nodded silently. His brows were furrowed as though he were deep in thought, “We should probably investigate, right?”

                “Yeah, I don’t really know where to begin though, this place is pretty big…” He said as he looked around the entrance lobby. It was a spacious place with a spiralling staircase and large elevators that lead to the classrooms on the bottom floor and atrium and administrative offices on the top floor respectively. On the left, a comfortable corner with overstuffed armchairs and plugs for charging phones and laptops whilst on break as well as corridors that lead to the computer labs and classrooms in the left wing, and a similar set up on the right but with a few tables and plastic chairs for eating meals or holding casual meetings. The microwave in the corner was unplugged, as were the vending machines, but if Yuuri remembered anything it was that the microwave would make anything left in it simultaneously burned and still cold in the centre, earning it the nickname _Schrodinger’s Microwave_ , and the vending machines would just steal your hard-earned starving student dollars, so this probably was for the best. There was something innately eerie about seeing this space that was once so full of life and activity utterly quiet, with the only source of light being the overly harsh daylight streaming in through the large windows in between clumps of flowers.

                **_Y O U  S H O U L D  S P L I T  U P._**

The thought burst into his head with an incredible intensity, almost as though it didn’t organically come from his own thought process, but was rather shouted from a megaphone in his head. Was this a residual effect from whatever substance was pumping through the plants?

                **_Y O U  S H O U L D  S P L I T  U P  T O  C O V E R  M O R E  G R O U N D._**

The awful, shouting voice in his head continued, punctuating every word with a strange jolt of pain that travelled down his spine.

                _Why?_

_**Y O U  S H O U L D  L O O K  I N  T H E  L E F T  W I N G, V I K T O R  S H O U L D  C H E C K  T H E  R I G H T.**_

He kneaded at his temple with his palm as the words built on each other, echoing as though they were physically bouncing off his skull. Everything he’d learned told him that, instinctively, splitting up was a terrible idea. His instincts snapped back at the voice in his head, but he found his lips moving despite themselves.

                “I think we should split up to cover more ground. How about you check the right wing, and I check the left?” Yuuri said, his eyes growing wider with every word. “I mean- I don’t…”

                “You heard it too then?” Viktor said, narrowing his eyes and furrowing his brows. “I was biting my tongue to stop the words from coming out. As stupid as this suggestion might sound, I think we should do what they want. It’s pretty clear that they want us to investigate separately for a reason.”

                “That sounds like a terrible idea Viktor…” Yuuri muttered, still in shock that his own thoughts seemed to have been hijacked from him so easily, “I don’t know, it sounds dangerous… even if I suggested it, that wasn’t _me_.”

                “I know,” Viktor said, his eyes softening, “trust me, alright?”

                “Okay…” Yuuri said, trying to gather his courage as he glanced at the left wing nervously. “If anything happens to you, yell.”

                “Of course…” Viktor said, leaning in and giving Yuuri a gentle kiss, “we’re both armed. If you meet any threat, don’t be hesitant to strike the jugular.”

                “Okay…” Yuuri said again with a weak nod as he watched Viktor stand up and walk down the hall towards the right wing, lights turning on as he turned into the hallway out of Yuuri’s line of sight.

                **_T H A T  W A S N’ T  S O  D I F F I C U L T,  W A S  I T?  Y O U  S H O U L D  G O  I N V E S T I G A T E  T H E  L E F T  W I N G,  I T  W I L L  B E  G R E A T._**


	12. T I M E  T O  T H I N K

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri investigates the left wing, only to make a mysterious and troubling discovery that has some deeper ramifications than he could've imagined.
> 
> And then he gets hit with some grim realisations.

                Yuuri slowly rose to his feet, making his way towards the left wing with a deep feeling of anticipation and dread in his chest. His footsteps echoed on the tiled floor in a manner that seemed slightly too loud for simple rubber-soled high tops. Around him, fluorescent lights buzzed and hummed to life as he progressed down the corridor. He gently opened the door to a classroom, peeked inside and saw absolutely nothing.

                It was almost as though whoever had designed the building simply deemed the room to be unimportant to Yuuri’s quest, and so had never bothered to make a room there.

                He closed the door, shaking his head. The rules of reality were making less and less sense as time went on, it seemed. He walked towards the next room, a computer lab in which he remembered spending long nights trying to debug faulty code. He opened the door only to find another empty white void. So much for that. He would’ve been disconcerted were he not vaguely annoyed at the futility of this quest.

                “So much for ‘it will be great’ huh?” he muttered to himself, leaning against one of the many lockers that lined the halls. He ran a hand across the smooth metal surface, only to find that it was impossible to open any of them, as they seemed to be more akin to a painted-on texture than a functional storage unit. “Wow, empty voids and non-functioning props. I’m impressed, this was worth hijacking my brain.”

                He sighed as he got back to his task of walking aimlessly down the halls. He had no idea where he was going or what he was supposed to do. He thought back to the years he’d spent in this building, back when there were actual people around. Everything had seemed both deeply important and surprisingly mundane… He dug around his mental Rolodex, trying to find any possible leads he could work from.

                He raised his eyes, staring deeply at a fork at the end of the hallway. Between the diverging paths was a door he remembered quite clearly, looking exactly as it had those years ago. The wooden surface was almost impossible to make out under the mass of posters for seminars, schedules, children’s drawings, cartoons, and stickers proclaiming that this professor was an ally and professionally trained psychologist.

                The bright blue nameplate had an almost unnaturally luminescent sheen to it, as though to draw Yuuri’s wandering eyes to it. From a distance, he couldn’t read the white text, but he knew it well enough to have the name _Dr Celestino Cialdini_ memorised.

                _That doesn’t make sense… How could he be a professor here if he’s supposed to be my supervisor at the store?_ , Yuuri thought as a sharp pain drilled it’s way over his right eye, as though something inside his head was trying to dig its way out of his skull. He clutched the spot that seemed to be the epicentre of the painful sensation with his hand as he nervously made his way towards the office. As he did, he could’ve sworn he heard loud, rock music with a thumping beat start to fill the corridor, growing louder and louder as he made his anxious approach.

**_So let's get a party going (let's get a party going)/ Now it's time to party and we'll party hard (party hard)/ Let's get a party going (let's get a party going)/ When it's time to party we will always party hard_ **

                He bit his lip anxiously, as he stopped in front of the door, grasping the doorknob in his trembling hand. The door seemed to be unlocked, as he slowly turned it, the doorknob felt strangely cold and heavy in his palm. He felt a shudder of anticipation down his spine as he opened the door slowly and was immediately hit with a blast of loud music and shouting vocals.

                The office looked entirely different than he remembered it doing, with a stack of old CRT monitors and discarded computer towers in the piled in the centre of the room, almost like a demented throne of obsolete technology. Around the junk heap, swirling pale blue hologram monitors floated around, displaying what looked to be some complex data sets pertaining to something. From the corner of his eye, he managed to catch his name appearing several times amongst the dark text on the floating screens.

                Most unusual, however, was the current occupant of the office, who was perched atop the pile, rocking gently and swaying to the tunes, his fingers flying over a floating holographic keyboard at an incredibly fast speed. He was most certainly NOT Dr Celestino Cialdini but rather appeared to be a young boy, diminutive and hunched over, with a wild mane of dirty blonde hair and floppy red bangs that flew about his face as he moved with giddy excitement. His face was almost entirely obscured by what appeared to be a black workman’s respirator mask. His oversized hoodie sleeves fell over his hands as he typed excitedly, except for the right one which was rolled up to reveal what appeared to be a modified Nintendo Power Glove adorning his hand.

                This person looked like he belonged in a street fashion magazine for weird computer kids more than a university professor’s office.

                Yuuri cleared his throat once he got over the shock of seeing what appeared to be another living person here. The boy immediately hit a button on his gauntlet, instantly killing the music and shutting off the holograms, causing them to explode into a shower of glittery blue particles. He chucked something in Yuuri’s direction, which Yuuri somehow managed to accidentally catch when he attempted to shield his face.

                A small yellow rubber duck with a pair of glasses drawn on with a blue sharpie, his name scrawled on its plastic back.

                “It looks just like him, doesn’t it?” Said the boy as he looked up, getting up from his hunched over position, “oh shit, my bad, I thought it was the other guy… Mr How-Did-He-Forge-A-Visitors-Pass, kek.”

                The boy’s voice seemed strangely melodic, processed through some sort of vocal filter that made it sound as though it were being spoken by a computer. It made Yuuri shiver slightly, sounding unnatural and disconnected from anything real.

                “I’m like, a super big fan though Katsuki-Senpai. This is so fucking awesome. Check it out…” The boy said swaying excitedly atop his pile of discarded tech, as though he was so full of energy that his tiny body could barely contain it, “It’s a chipspeech vocoder I programmed myself, I could totally sing Daisy Bell… Wasn’t that the first thing that got you excited about transhumanism? The fact that one of the first things we did once we got good at computing was transforming our computers into something more human and blur the lines between man and machine- Aww shit, I’m talking too much, aren’t I? I’m just so excited to finally meet you.”

                “W-wait you read that?” Yuuri asked, trying to keep up with the boy’s chatter.

                “Yeah dude, I found it in the archives while I was poking around a few years ago… I guess I was kinda bored and figured paywalls are kinda gay so I forced my way in for shits n gigs and then I found your work and I was like whoa this guy is on some next level shit! I read like everything you’ve put out, even the non-peer reviewed shit.” The boy said, giddily laughing behind his mask, which seemed to have the voice-altering apparatus built in, “Right, I probably shouldn’t call things gay around you kek. It's insensitive, my bad... Sorry, I just popped a couple addys before you showed up because I was so excited.”

                “That’s great but… you said you were expecting me or someone else?” Yuuri asked, furrowing his brows as he spoke.

                “Yeah Katsuki-Senpai, I kinda hoped you’d listen to me and ditch _Dr You-Don’t-Have-The-Authority-To-Veto-Guests-Get-Him-Out_ tho’ lmao.” The boy said, shrugging his shoulders, “He’s kind of a wet blanket and I didn’t really feel like getting shot today, WWWWWWW.”

                Yuuri tried to wrap his head around the boy’s weird mannerisms but he found it difficult. For some reason, seeing a child in this sort of environment through Yuuri through a loop more than even those weird plants did. “Doctor who now?”

                “Oh shit, right lmao, I’m such a grade A dumbass sometimes. You wouldn’t remember, would you?” The boy said pensively, cocking his head from side to side as he thought. Finally, he pointed a triumphant index finger in the air, “Hang on, I got this, bro this is going to fucking sick. I can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner, Katsuki-Senpai… Gimme a sec.”

                The boy dialled something into the power glove’s numeral keypad, excitedly muttering something with too much distortion for Yuuri to make out. After a long moment, he reached into the large front pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a leatherbound journal of some sort. He held it up with a dramatic flourish before tossing it down to Yuuri, where it landed with a dull thud in front of his feet.

                “Consider it an extra gift from your number one fan.” He said with a wave, “It’s an exact copy, it should have literally everything in it.”

                “What do you mean?” Yuuri asked as he picked up the book nervously. Something about this entire exchange was making his chest feel strangely tight.

                “Don’t worry about it Katsuki-Senpai. I’m sure you’ll figure out all the answers because we’re totally helping you out. I’d love to stay and chat but by my calculations, Anima just got his ass shot by now so I gotta flash and deal with that, kek. He’s not gonna be happy but you know kids…” He said with a casual shrug.

                “Wait, Anima?” Yuuri shouted, his face feeling strangely hot as his blood ran cold. “Does that mean you-“

                “Yeah dog, but don’t worry Senpai. Trickster is on the case!” The boy said as he started fading out of existence, his image warping and glitching as though it were made of corrupted data.

                Yuuri shuddered, feeling an anxious laugh build in his lungs as he stared at the empty air where the boy once stood, his mouth agape. He didn’t ever expect to meet these… people, let alone actually talk to them.

                _And what the fuck was that “biggest fan” deal…_

Yuuri looked at the two objects in his hands. They both felt incredibly heavy, as though they were made of lead. He sat on the floor, setting the duck and the journal before him, trying to calm his beating heart and still his shaking hands. He ran a finger over the worn leather exterior, feeling a dark, anxious dread building in his mind. Somehow, he knew in his mind that opening it would be a terrible breach of confidence, that the words inside had not been meant for his eyes and yet, his heart leapt forward at the tantalising possibility that the extra questions his exchange with Trickster had raised could be answered.

                Surely if it helped him understand the situation he was in, he could use it to both he and Viktor’s benefit…

                He bit back the last of his inhibitions as he nervously thumbed open the first page, his heart stopping dead in his chest as he read the first words scribbled in the margins in blue pen.

                _December 2nd, 2019_.

                                _Patient Zero, Yuuri Katsuki, admitted into Collecon. Initialisation process going smoothly. Vitals stable. Mental process stable. Condition unchanged. I wished to meet again under better circumstances, but this is the time for professionalism._

                Yuuri’s hands shook as the words seemed to float off the page as his eyes filled with tears. Something wasn’t right. Something was utterly wrong.

                He desperately read ahead, looking for answers. Looking for confirmation that his fears were unfounded, that he hadn’t been strung along in something he didn’t understand by people who knew more than he did.

                _December 3 rd, 2019._

_Patient’s vital functions are stable. Mental processes are stable. Neural lobe entirely functional, lesions healing normally (though this is no surprise, I fully trusted Dr G with the installation of the device). Collecon experimental build outlook is good._

_December 4 th, 2019._

_Patient Zero is building appropriate neural links with the help of the technology loaned to us by P. I must remember to send him a letter of thanks, this truly would not be possible without his assistance. I think he is just as eager as me to allow the patient to organically integrate into Collecon. Vital functions are good. Mental processes are stable. Outlook is good._

_December 5 th, 2019._

_Patient Zero seems incredibly agitated today. Vital functions normal, mental functions incredibly active. He is building links and filling in gaps in the available data faster than anticipated. Data about [H CITY] has been uploaded to the framework in order to facilitate integration based on recurring suggestions from Y (don’t tell him I listened to him, it will go to his head). I was already aware Mr.Katsuki was incredible, but this far exceeds anything I could’ve imagined. Part of me wishes he were aware of what is happening, but we must stick to the planned parameters._

                Yuuri’s chest felt tight as he flipped forward, barely registering the words written on the pages before him. His eyes scanned the notebook in fleeting glances as his breath became shallow. He laughed a nervous, hoarse laugh as though the contents of the journal were the most hilarious joke in the world, one he’d never been privy to until now.

                He stopped on a random page, a few months forward. Not that it mattered. Nothing around him seemed to anymore.

_Feb 2020._

                _Yuuri has been moved to C ward as his condition is stable. In a sense, this is better as I can keep a better eye on things here (I believe someone might be tampering with the program’s parameters, things seem… Unusual). His hair looks almost blue in the light, which is interesting. Speaking of interesting, he has been building onto the simulation in remarkable new ways. There are things in here that should not exist based on the data that is currently available, and I can only assume that these are based on his memories._

_Feb 2020._

_I strongly dislike the propensity of the others to refer to him as “patient zero” all the time. I’m aware it’s standard professional procedure, but we do owe so much of this system to the man, the very least we can do is address him as a human being with an identity of his own. His family came by again, leaving more of those steamed buns behind. Y has been enjoying them, but he won’t admit it. Still, it’s nice enough to have the perspective of someone besides the others here. They’ve provided some valuable insight into things I should add to the simulation, and I have proceeded to follow their directions._

_Feb 2020._

_Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be in Mr.Katsuki’s situation, to inhabit something that seems like a facsimile of daily life, but without the stakes that accompany it. Is it really moral to dupe him into inhabiting the world we’ve crafted together, or would it have been better to allow him the blissful nothingness that came after the incident?_

_I wish I could ask him…_

_Does he even remember me?_

_Sometimes I feel the desire to approach him within the simulation, but I am aware doing so would be in direct opposition to Dr B’s protocol. I hate this._

_March 2020._

_Y came by again today, incredibly agitated by the lack of progress. He keeps insisting on these experimental builds, saying it’s what he would’ve wanted. I keep telling him it’s too dangerous, but I feel as though he simply refuses to listen._

_Mental note: keep him out of the coffees._

                Yuuri dropped the journal in disgust. The more he read, the less he understood and the more the deep, empty pit in his stomach grew. He glared at the pile of computer refuse before him, laughing at the absurdity of it all. He felt an overwhelming bitterness bubble in the back of his throat, almost tangible as he drove a fist into the screen of one of the CRTs, causing it to shatter. The room around him shuddered slightly as if reality was merely a videotape that had undergone decay after years of wear and tear, streaks of green and magenta bleeding into the walls.

                He gripped his fist as he rose to his feet, shoving the journal and the duck into his pockets. He had managed to injure himself on the glass, but the pain didn’t seem to register as he watched small bubbles of bright red bloom from the criss-cross of razor thin cuts.

                “Yuuri?” He heard Viktor ask, cautiously entering the room as he did, “I heard you laughing, is something wrong.”

                “Yeah,” Yuuri said coldly, his heart feeling tight with a pang of anger and betrayal. A malicious, cruel part of his brain wanted to lash out, to hurt this man who had clearly been hiding something big from him, acting the innocent bystander the whole time.

                And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to feel much resentment at all. Perhaps he was simply an idiot in love, but his greater conscience wanted to throw himself into those arms and cry, cry until all the pain and anger was spent. He wanted nothing more but to melt into the arms of this person, even if ultimately Yuuri no longer knew if he was friend or foe.

                Instead, he stood, holding out the diary as though it were a loaded gun, pointing it at Viktor’s chest. His voice felt flat and hollow in his dry mouth as he spoke.

                **“No more lies Viktor. I chose truth. Tell me everything you know.”**                   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit this is it, lads, we're approaching the endgame and the STAKES HIGH.
> 
> next time we get: the truth part II. :o


	13. The Truth Part II (Sunlight is the Best Disinfectant)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After confronting Viktor, Yuuri gets a chance to finally see it all from the very beginning.

                Viktor Nikiforov, stood silent for a long time, his deep blue eyes trailing from the book outstretched in Yuuri’s hand back to his face. A look of shock and pained understanding worked its way across his face as he seemingly took in the scene. The two men stood, facing each other, frozen in tense silence as the walls around them shuddered slightly, long stripes of distortion dying them in various RGB tones, occasionally reflecting on the dull flat screens of the discarded CRT monitors.

                Viktor opened his mouth as if to speak, but shut it again. Finally, after a few more similar attempts he spoke, his voice weak and strained, “I see you met the other one then… I’m sorry Yuuri. You deserve to know. You deserve to know it all."

               Viktor slowly reached into his jacket pocket, taking out the object that Yuuri had misidentified as a cigarette lighter by touch, which was instead a small blue USB key that shone with the same iridescent sheen as the CD-ROM had when viewed through the lens of the broken sunglasses at the _Daylight._ Viktor reached under the curtain of silver hair after uncapping the device, pulling it up into a loose ponytail in one hand just long enough to seemingly push the golden USB dongle into his skin, at the base of his skull. His eyes fluttered shut as he let out a soft sigh. After a few moments, he handed the USB to Yuuri, cupping his hands around his, the cool fingertips gently cradling his own as the younger man felt the strange heft of the device.

                He wordlessly looked into those bright blue eyes, hoping to see answers there but finding a deep whirlpool of emotions instead. Subtle licks of regret, hope, anxiety and love seemed to pool within the endless blue, peeking behind glassy pools of tears.

                “Once you see what is on this, find me on the roof. You chose truth, and I trust that you chose well.” Viktor said, his lips pulled into a tight, sad smile, “please just… whatever I did, I did it out of love for you. Love for all your layers, love for the man you rebuilt me into and the man I hoped I could save. Everything will change from here.”

                The words echoed in his chest as Yuuri nodded, placing a last soft kiss on Viktor’s cold, ungloved hand. The skin there felt strangely new, smooth and unblemished. The other man walked out of the room without a word, silver hair gently swaying like a flag of surrender behind him.

                Yuuri clambered up the stack of computer carcases, making his way to the top where Trickster had been seated. He looked around, seeing a pile of discarded energy drink cans and noodle cups, strewn about and a single old, clunky looking IBM Thinkpad which reminded him of the first one he’d ever bought. He nervously fumbled with the key, putting it into a USB port on the side of the computer. Immediately, the computer whirred to life, filling the air with a familiar digitised chiptune.

                _Daisy, Daisy give me your answer do… I’m half-crazy all for the love of you…_

On the screen was a single folder. Yuuri clicked the icon with apprehension.

 

 

 

> User- Animus (V:)/ Directory/ Memento/ Chapter 0/ Truth.EXE
> 
>                 -> DAYLIGHT_LOUNGE.EXE
> 
>                 -> HASETSU_STATION_INCIDENT.EXE  
>                  -> HOLIDAY.EXE  
>                  -> AUTOEXEC.BAT

 

                Yuuri moused over the autoexecutable, watching a flashing command prompt window flash onto the screen for a moment as the batch file opened everything in the directory. Yuuri sat back, absentmindedly running his fingers through his hair as he got a splash screen for DAYLIGHT_LOUNGE.EXE, which showed a simple photograph of the exterior of the building on a vaguely rainy evening, animated raindrops tapping against the pavement, blurring the neons that surrounded it. The scene was incredibly familiar.

                He clicked the only option on the screen, which said **_Fall Hopelessly, Ridiculously, Madly In Love._** He felt a warm tingle in his fingertips, his eyes rolling back in his head as he seized slightly. Once he opened his eyes again he realised he was living a moment, a memory through someone else’s eyes, as though he were a part of that person… As though he was curled up within some deep part of Viktor Nikiforov’s mind, a voice in his head watching the events unfold like a dream.

* * *

 

                Viktor’s fingers clicked unnaturally on the glass top of the table. His eyes were fixed on his drink, watching the gentle floating of the glittering particles stirring in the glass of clear liquid.

                “You can’t even taste the gold, what’s the point?” He asked, his voice sombre as he spoke.

                Christophe chuckled, “it’s the prestige factor Vitya. If you can afford vodka with 23 carat gold flakes in it then you can afford not to care if it actually changes the taste or not.”

                He rolled his eyes, downing another sip of the overpriced novelty drink, “thank god it’s being charged to Feltsman’s account.”

                “Are you seriously wearing those leather gloves in here, Vitya?” Christophe said, cocking his head in the direction of Viktor’s hands, a displeased expression painted on his face, “Can’t you take some time off from self-loathing for even a moment and appreciate the night… It’s an impressive piece of kit anyway, and perfectly installed if I do say so myself…”

                “Don’t be too modest now, head surgeon Giacometti…” Viktor said dryly, “besides, impressive or not seeing it makes me sick.”

                “What is it that Lilia keeps saying… _‘you are the phoenix, reborn’_. Why don’t you act like one and just have a good time?” Christophe sighed, the blue neons adding a strange, dreamlike quality to his sharp, chiselled features.

                “Phoenixes flame out spectacularly before crawling out of the dust naked and small,” He replied, downing the last of the pretentious gold flaked vodka. “Also, they’re not real.”

                “Fine, but how about we try to have fun anyway Vitya, you won’t be 27 forever you know. It’ll be nice, we can get blotto and have a legendary evening out before going back to being biotech medical experts.” The man said, gently resting a warm hand on his shoulder, “meet someone new, go get fucked in a bathroom stall, wake up barely remembering how to speak English, without an excuse for Yakov or Lilia…”

                His friend’s pep talk had been interrupted by the sounds of boisterous laughter and a gleeful shout.

                “NO FU-FU BEAR IT’S MY FUCKING JAM. I FUCKING LOVE THIS SONG PHICHIT. FU-BEAR C’MON AND DANCE,” the voice shouted, tinkling laughter bouncing through every syllable. The man was clearly having a great time as he shouted along to the words, barely on key as he bellowed in drunken glee, “TURN YOUR MAGIC ON FOR ME SHE’D SAY/ EVERYTHING YOU WANT’S A DREAM AWAY~ C’MON FUU FUU YOU’RE HOLDING BACK ON ME!”

                The man’s companion laughed back, his laugh slightly high pitched and full of energy, “Yuu-bear nooo… Get off the table or I’m gonna have to film this. Okay, fine Yuuri, you brought this on yourself, I’m gonna save this one for a long time...”

                At the sound of the name, Viktor’s head snapped up, expecting to have to reprimand a certain little blonde intern who had just started at the institute, already acting as if he knew everything there was to know because he’d graduated from medical school at age 15. Instead, two young laughing Asian men, one holding a phone and filming the impromptu dance number that had had apparently broken out. The other, dark hair and large glasses, singing and swinging madly on the table with surprising dexterity. His moves almost seemed like they belonged back on the ice, filling Viktor’s heart with something akin to nostalgia. Of course, any version of this dance number on the ice would probably not involve a white button down shirt being swung over his head.

                “See, that guy gets it,” Christophe said with a laugh, taking a big swig of vodka from the bottle, “I’m gonna go fucking join him. Brood if you must but the doctor prescribes you a wild bacchanal, Vitya.”

                “Christophe no, you’re a professional, this isn’t med school anymore…” Viktor groaned, watching his best friend make his way through the small crowd that had formed around the man, unbuttoning his sports jacket and tossing it to a girl on the dance floor who squealed as he climbed onto the table, improvising an entrance that caused the crowd to scream, chucking fistfuls of dollar bills to the pair.

                The man on the table laughed, rocking his hips as he roughly unbuttoned Chris’ designer dress shirt. Chris laughed, winking at Viktor and cocking his head towards him as if to draw the other man’s attention to him.

                _Christophe fucking Giacometti you’re a fucking menace. What are you doing?_

The dark-haired man slicked his hair back, as he scanned the crowd with his eyes, letting them fall on Viktor. The young man gave him a quick look over and bit his lower lip in a manner that heavily implied that his assessment of Viktor was positive before returning to his occupation of performing an elaborate strip-tease on the table, complete with undulating hips and smooth rolls of his torso. Despite the man’s physique being less than athletic, he somehow owned and commanded the attention of those watching, drawing excited cheers and joyful claps. His body shimmered in the blueish light as he finally removed his trousers, much to the enthusiasm of his audience. Someone squealed, spraying champagne from the bottle on the two men, drawing a sweet chuckle from the man.

                His dark eyes never strayed from Viktor’s, which made Viktor’s chest seem slightly tighter. The man fell into a split and made his way to the edge of the table on all fours, a heavily lidded coy smile on his face as he slipped the discarded trousers around Viktor’s neck. He winked, tapping him on the tip of his nose as the song came to a climax. He found himself suddenly imagining what that soft, champagne flavoured skin felt like, making something under his waistline stir pleasantly.

                “Hey Yuuri, Yuu-Bear that was fucking legendary but the manager just told me if you do that again we’re gonna get kicked out. That uh, goes for you too big guy,” The man’s friend said with a chuckle, his smile bright enough to illuminate the entire room, “this isn’t the shitty Ice Castle next to the campus anymore.”

                “The Ice Castle is not shitty,” The man said with a mock stern expression, picking his cheap poly-cotton button up off the floor, loosely throwing it on over his shoulders. “I’m gonna need those back gorgeous…”

                “You speak English?” Viktor said as he tried to catch his breath.

                “Of course, it’s what I’m talking right now, right?” The man said with a warm grin. Viktor wanted to take that grin and keep it locked in a jar for a rainy day, “unless I totally lapsed back into Japanese which is like totally possible.”

                “Hey, Yuu-bear…” The pants-less man’s friend said gently, “I’m gonna leave you with your new pal, okay baby. This big guy here’s a _doctor_ and I wanna learn more about _anatomy_ if you catch my drift…”

                “Go get it,” The man laughed, slugging him in the arm, “just be safe ok fu-fu.”

                Viktor watched the man and Christophe walk towards the dancefloor, Christophe’s arm around the smaller man’s waist. Christophe gave him a final look over his shoulder as if to yell _CARPE THE FUCKING NOCTEM, MY BOY. I’M GONNA HAVE A SLOPPY DRUNK MAKE OUT SESH WITH THIS ADORABLE GUY, WHAT’S YOUR LEGACY GONNA BE?_

                “I-I’m Viktor Nikiforov…” Viktor said, turning back to the man who was slowly putting his pants back on. He had attempted to button his shirt at some point, but it was adorably askew. “I’m in town for the uh, conference. What about you?”

                “Oh man that’s like such a coincidence because I’m drinking to forget the convention,” the man laughed, “my name is Yuuri Katsuki, and I totally… Boom... blew that bad boy. Had a presentation this afternoon on theoretical applications of AI in transhumanism and I fucking bombed Mr.Nikiforov.”

                “That’s unfortunate,” Viktor said as the man pulled in close, almost grinding his hips against his pelvis as he anxiously started dancing along with him, “I’m sure it was fascinating. I probably missed it while I was presenting this prototype I developed with some input from a student from the local comp-sci department at… wait, are you that Yuuri Katsuki?”

                “Probably,” Yuuri said with a giddy smile, “there’s only one here. I thought you were much older based on your profile and writing style, Mr.Nikiforov…”

                “You’re a lot more personable than I imagined…” Viktor said as he started feeling the infectious laughter and rhythm of the other man, “Do you mind if we talk about your thesis, I would love to hear about it, you seem absolutely brilliant…”

                “Only if you let me give you a kiss on your pretty mouth,” Yuuri said with a giggle, “Just kidding, but seriously. I can’t believe I’m dancing with someone so fucking… awesome. Smart and handsome, like man you’re just unfair aren’t you…”

                “I could say the same about you,” Viktor said, his breath catching in his throat as Yuuri drew closer, wrapping his arms around Viktor’s hips.

                The scene gently faded to black, fading back in much later in the evening, perhaps after a few dozen more drinks had come and passed and been downed, after some light jokes and giddy flirtations. Viktor’s hands wandered excitedly around Yuuri’s form, no longer inhibited by nerves or self-doubt. Yuuri’s lips were warm, plump and inviting as the smaller man bit Viktor’s lip playfully as the pair slumped down further into the booth that had previously occupied Viktor and Christophe (who was MIA, presumably still in the lavatory with Phichit, who Viktor found out was one of those social media optimisation wizards with a head full of big plans for his own start-up, so therefore probably _too good_ for Chris but that was just because he’d seen the man hung over before). Viktor and Yuuri sloppily allowed themselves to continue tangling their limbs and tongues together.

                “Can you take them off for me Viktor?” Yuuri asked, his eyes blown open with a hazy drunken glee that made Viktor want to hold him closer. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to but I’m so curious…”

                “Sure, for you it’s okay,” Viktor said, pressing a smile against Yuuri’s lips as he slipped off the left glove, followed by the right, revealing one elegant hand with long, delicate fingers and one pitch black mechanical one, the smooth carbon fibre material glinting under the artificial sky of the Daylight. Yuuri curiously took it in his own hand, gently caressing the dark, cool surface with his fingertips.

                “Can you feel it when I do that?” He asked gently.

                “Yes. Your suggestions regarding the neurological-body-map made sure of that. It’s not perfect, but I feel it.” Viktor said softly, closing his eyes and focusing on the touch. “They feel gentle, delicate, warm.”

                “…And this, do you feel this?” Yuuri whispered as he brought the hand to his chest, slipping it under the thin fabric of his shirt.

                “Yes… it feels warm, soft, intoxicating.” Viktor murmured, feeling the warm tightness he’d felt in his chest all night exacerbate at the contact, “I feel your skin, the tickle of a few stray hairs, the sticky champagne residue, your heart beat…”

                “and this?” Yuuri asked as he brushed his lips over the mechanical knuckles, kissing them gently.

                “Definitely.”

                “Do you want to keep feeling with me, Viktor?”

                “Definitely.”

* * *

 

                Yuuri’s breath felt abnormally shallow as the felt himself get pulled away from the scene, returning to his own skin. He gasped, feeling himself in quick rapid pats to be certain that he was back in front of the laptop, his dark eyes drifting towards the screen. Part of him wanted to return to the cool neon blues, the soft white banquette and feeling Viktor’s…

                His hands.

                He looked at his own hands, realising that they felt strangely cold and heavy. He had helped develop it, the prototype, the artificial limb that could feel. They’d fervently exchanged emails after Viktor inquired about something he’d proposed in a dissertation, a theoretical application in body-mapping and robotics, and how it could be applied to an organic being.

                He smiled despite everything, a warmth swelling in his chest as he thought about the possibility of the pair of them actually meeting face to face like that. The odds must’ve astronomical.

                If Yuuri believed in fate, this would’ve been just that.

                He looked back up at the screen, noticing that the next executable had launched, displaying a similar splash screen for **_Hasetsu Station Incident._** His brows furrowed as he took in the scene on the monitor, a red silhouette of a man with what appeared to be a newspaper article describing some terrible accident that had resulted in multiple deaths and even more injured persons. He moused over the menu, which only offered the option **_Experience Loss/ Chase the Ghost._**

He frowned as he looked at the cryptic text, which filled him with dread. The journals had also discussed an incident, something terrible which he had apparently gone through.

                _So naturally, this must be the incident from Viktor’s point of view…_ he thought grimly, watching the red text sear into his eyes for a moment longer. He was afraid of clicking on the button, of what it would reveal. He swallowed as he clicked, fast and with the determination of one removing an adhesive bandage that had been stuck on their skin for too long.

                Immediately, his head started to hurt, feeling as though he’d split it open. He would’ve clutched it, but his hands were like lead, heavy and immovable and incredibly dull, as though they were only superficially attached to his body. He grit his teeth as he felt the spasm of pain threaten to make him vomit. His eyes rolled back in his skull as he felt a similar sensation take hold of him, feeling almost like his body was frozen in stasis.

* * *

 

PART 1: LOSS.

Viktor Nikiforov’s mouth hung open as he watched the evening news, the footage showing the wreckage with an almost voyeuristic glee. He felt cold, dull as he slumped into a chair, his eyes glazing over as the news anchor spoke in a sober, confident monotone describing the misery and chaos that had happened that Wednesday afternoon.

                Apparently, someone had set a bomb on the tracks, some maniac with a god complex who claimed that those aboard were sacrifices to something or another. The train had then derailed catastrophically as it hit the impacted rail at full speed, causing it to flip over before being flung into a platform like a toy. The mortality toll had yet to be counted, but there were hundreds of people in critical condition as first response workers and volunteers sorted through the wreckage. He shuddered as the camera panned over rubble and warped metal, engaging in the grim spectacle of viewing. Viktor’s stomach dropped through the floor as he heard his phone vibrate. He automatically tried to answer with his right hand, only to remember at last minute that the touch screen would not recognise the artificial digits that clinked against the capacitive glass. He fumbled with his left, answering in a dull, hollow tone.

                “Vitya…” He heard Christophe say in a gentle, pitying tone that betrayed the reason he called, “did you see the evening news?”

                “Yes,” Viktor responded in a flat monosyllable.

                “Did you hear anything from Yuuri or Phichit?” Christophe asked, clearly trying to keep his voice stable. If Chris hadn’t heard from Phichit of all people, then the probability of them being amongst those impacted was probably one hundred percent…

                Viktor lowered the phone, hitting the end call button as Christophe questioned the air. He would apologise later.

                Life, love… once again it seemed like it had been taken from him by fate. He glared at the dark limb attached to his forearm, contrasting so strongly against his pale skin. He wanted to rip it off, to crawl back into bed at the hospital and drink clear broth and take all their stupid tests and never have another responsibility or attachment as long as he lived. Instead, he opened his e-mail application, immediately typing out a message to the only people he knew he could trust in this situation.

                _TO: DR BARANOVSKAYA, DR FELTSMAN  
                SUBJECT: EMERGENCY PROTOCOL_

_BODY: I WOULD STRONGLY RECOMMEND MAKING PREPARATIONS FOR POSSIBLE THERAPEUTIC INTERVENTIONS BASED ON TODAY’S SITUATION. THE CALIFORNIA LOCATION SHOULD BE PREPPED ENOUGH TO HANDLE A MEDIUM LOAD OF PATIENTS. FACILITY SHOULD BE ABLE TO FEASIBLY ASSIST WITH ANY TRANSPLANTS AND PROSTHETICS REQUIRED._

_I ALSO WISH TO INQUIRE ABOUT THE COLLECON INITIATIVE. WE SHOULD BE ABLE TO GET IT FUNCTIONAL WITHIN A YEAR. IF I AM ALLOWED TO PROCEED, A SMALL TEAM CONSISTING OF DOCTORS GIACOMETTI AND OTABEK WOULD BE PREFERRED, AS WELL AS ASSISTANT-RESEARCHER PLISETSKY (ALTHOUGH HE IS NOT TO BE GIVEN COFFEE PRIVILEGES)._

_PLEASE ANSWER SOON._

_NIKIFOROV._

                He dropped his phone onto the smooth plain table in the standard company lodgings as he continued watching the screen, his eyes not absorbing anything flashing on the television. His mind was already back at the office, preparing to begin work on the functional prototype he and Mr.Katsuki had been working out.

                It had to work.

                There was too much at stake.

* * *

 

PART 2: CHASING GHOSTS

                After the third attempt at petitioning the owners to allow him to take on the project, Lilia finally gave in. Her stern eyes had almost gleaned a note of sadness as she watched him work aimlessly, desperately.

                “I must warn you though, if you are only taking on this task out of some misguided sense of responsibility for Mr.Katsuki’s case, well, I’m afraid it will only bring grief. Are you ready for the burden, for the possibility that I will not work?” She asked, peering over the harsh cat eye lenses that she’d had ever since they’d first met when he was thirteen years old.

                “I am not, doctor,” Viktor said coolly, running his fingers through his short silver hair, “I understand the risks, as would he. That is why I sent the proposal to his next of kin, his mother, father and sister… I am certain that they would understand that he would want this, the possibility of using this system to keep him and others alive.”

                “I trust you Viktor…” Dr Baranovskaya said in a tone that was softer than the usual clipped, professional passion she brought with her, “but remember that you can spend your whole life chasing his ghost. Even if the system works, even if his mind can flawlessly be kept active and alive in that simulation, he might never wake up again. The man you’re pouring so much of yourself into might not be able to make it back, are you willing to accept that possibility?”

                “No.” Viktor said grimly, “It will work. Good day, doctor. I have an appointment with Phichit Chulanot, he’s brought by some prototypes that I wish to examine.”

                Viktor walked briskly down the hall, a warm cup of coffee in his gloved hand. He hadn’t slept in two days, but that was quite alright. He’d already given that up, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the initialisation of Collecon.

                All that mattered was keeping him alive, keeping him safe, making sure that nothing ever hurt him like that again.

                When they had sorted through the wreckage and pulled him out amongst the mangled bodies in the train, they’d originally counted Yuuri Katsuki amongst the dead. He had gotten caught under a large, twisted portion of the train’s roof which had severed his left hand completely along with his leg and had suffered intense blunt force trauma. However, he still had a very gentle heartbeat and maintained that heartbeat throughout the many, many surgical interventions he had undergone…

                The only thing that had never returned was that mind, that beautiful mind full of love and joy, genius and a desire to change the world for the best hidden deep within a layer of anxiety and self-deprecation that Viktor had desperately been trying to chip through… gone. Swirling along in some vast, unknowable void, taking Viktor with it.

                The only thing left of Viktor Nikiforov was the desire for this to work. Everything else was secondary, dead weight. A single-minded devotion to this ideal was all he needed, if not to save Yuuri then at least to allow his spirit to live on and assist others like he had talked about on late night skype calls, with sleepy eyes and a dreamy smile.

                He would ensure that Yuuri would rise from the ashes after all.

                The one cog in his plan had been the other Yuri, a small, slight boy, almost delicate really. Another child prodigy, as it were, brilliant but with an arrogance and a will to challenge others. Whereas Viktor was simply satisfied with the notion of keeping him alive, gently coaxing him back from the far gone with slow but safe measures, the boy had other plans.

                Brilliant, but radical.

                Usually, such a spark would’ve been welcome in Viktor’s life, but radical was dangerous in an operation this delicate.

                “He wanted to help humanity evolve, right?” Yuri had spat explosively at the last staff meeting, “so why are you and the hamster making a stupid little sim city? Should we not be pushing for evolution. Evolution needs a revolution, it needs pain, he needs to fucking grow.”

                That would be a problem, yes, but one he could temper. For now, he had only one thing on his mind: his appointment to oversee the finalised Hasetsu data compilation and the freshly signed waivers in his hand, courtesy of the Katsuki family.

                “Soon…” He muttered to himself as he walked briskly down the hall, “soon I’ll feel you again.”

* * *

 

                Yuuri snapped back to reality with a sharp gasp.

                _No, not reality. Back to the Collecon system. Back to this layer._

He trembled as the half-remembered flurry of images mixed with the muddled reality of what he’d seen. They were both, as it turned out, fundamentally broken people, forced together by fate and tragedy. His cheeks stung with fresh tears as he watched the executable shut down forcibly (not that he wished to revisit that anytime soon).

                _So what do you want to do about it Katsuki? Are we done being a passive player in our own life? Are we gonna bust outta here somehow or what?_

He felt simultaneously as though he were very heavy and lightheaded. He nodded in determination as he saw the very last executable, a simple command prompt.

 

 

 

> **_ARE YOU READY FOR THE END? (Y/N)  
>                  WARNING: EFFECTS ARE IRREVERSABLE. FILE HOLIDAY.EXE MIGHT BE IRREPARABLY CORRUPTED BY PROCESS TRUTH.EXE. CONTINUE WITH CAUTION._ **
> 
> **_LOVE, ANIMUS._ **

                Yuuri readied his right hand for the final time as his finger hit the Y key.

                _See you on the roof, love._

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaah, hopefully some of the mysteries and motivations got explained a little here. Finally, we learn exactly what Viktor's deal is in this special "I have depression so instead of suicidal ideation I write my sweet boys solving mysteries" edition update!
> 
> but oh, yuuri, you gotta know it's not over until it's over.
> 
> (also yes, Viktor's also got an alias under the name Animus here, the nature of that will be explained... ON THE ROOF!)
> 
> also the start up sound of the computer is referencing [this](https://youtu.be/41U78QP8nBk) piece of IT history which was also vaguely discussed last time!


	14. carry you home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri meets Viktor on the roof and the pair process the changes that they've been through

                Yuuri’s reeled back, shuddering slightly as he made to rub his eyes which stung as everything had been engulfed within a large stretch of blinding white light for a moment. He paused for a moment, appreciating the situation in front of him.

                His right hand seemed normal enough, but this was most certainly not the left hand he had a moment ago, but rather a pale, gleaming white construct. He moved the joints experimentally, seeing small, shimmery flashes of blue in between the plates of white carbon fibre. He smiled, appreciating the details of its construction.

                It was something strange and new, but at this point strange and new was to be expected.

                He slowly made his way down from the pile of computer carcases, catching his reflection in the CRT screens, pausing to take in the man that he saw staring back at him on the dull black monitors.

                He looked significantly older, tired, behind his glasses, an oversized hospital gown and overcoat hanging off his form. His hair, which was already messy and in need of a trim, had grown out considerably while he was out of time, almost falling to his shoulders in coarse dark waves. He was far from being thin and emaciated, still covered in a layer of plush, but some of the roundness and softness had melted from his cheeks, giving him a slightly harder appearance. His left arm did indeed cut off abruptly at the wrist, flesh giving way to the gleaming white mechanical replacement for his hand. His movements were clumsy, hesitant as he tried to adjust to the matching leg apparatus which started at his knee. He poked it curiously, observing the elegant lines of the prosthetic, which was built to be aerodynamic rather than realistic. It would definitely take some getting used to.

                But it was real. Part of him.

                He slowly exited the room, noting that it seemed to fill with thick, billowing fog as he abandoned it. He paused for a short moment of reflection before reaching into his pocket and removing the leatherbound journal, holding it for a moment before throwing into the empty void that had permeated the space. He wouldn’t need it.

                He limped slightly down the empty corridor until he reached the elevators in the main lobby, hitting the button that would lead to the rooftop atrium. The atrium was a quiet space, made of reflective glass that let in natural light. Overstuffed armchairs, potted plants and small coffee tables were scattered about, making it a popular spot for the students to mingle.

                Yuuri’s eyes travelled through the familiar room as his eyes settled on its single occupant. Viktor was seated in one of the chairs, making rapid notes in his journal. Part of him wondered if these notes would’ve spontaneously appeared within the pages of its replica, but none of it mattered.

                The man looked different, yes, but still entirely recognisable there in the chair, dressed in a matching hospital gown which had slid off his shoulder slightly, revealing the pale skin underneath as he leant forward. The skin still appeared slightly scarred, but rather than a twisted painful looking thing it was a simple pink slit over his rib, a crescent just slightly over the position of his heart. Viktor too had the signs of age and wear on his form. Dark circles had formed under his eyes, still as pale blue and intense as ever. His hair had been cut shorter, revealing more of his sharp, angular jawline as he murmured something to himself. The black artificial limb gleamed in the sunlight, occasionally revealing traces of a warm orange hue under the dark plates.

                _At least we match,_ Yuuri thought to himself. Of course, they did. Viktor would not have it any other way.

                “I like your new look, Vitya,” Yuuri said with a warm smile. “It’s very grown up. God knows you rock the hospital gown better than I do.”

                Viktor looked up with a smile, making a tiny choked noise in his throat as he did. Yuuri saw tears welling in his eyes as he looked him up and down, seemingly absorbing the changes. He knew the emotions must’ve been conflicting, reconciling the man in here and the man out there, lying in the hospital bed… Yuuri slowly made his way over to the chair the other man was in, still getting used to the challenge of manoeuvring the mechanical limb attached to his leg. He stumbled slightly, falling into the other man’s lap.

                Viktor laughed airily as he wrapped his arms around Yuuri. They sat together, holding each other for a while and absorbing the collective warmth of their bodies as they sank slightly in the chair. Yuuri ran the artificial hand through Viktor’s short, silver locks, mesmerised by the fact that he felt their softness twining through the plastic fingers.

                He leant in close, gently kissing Viktor’s damp cheeks, nuzzling against them. “This is almost like the night we met for real. We just need some shitty vodka and we would be set.”

                Viktor chuckled again, “I take it you saw it all then…”

                Yuuri pulled back, gazing lovingly into Viktor’s eyes. They were full of warmth and love but had a tired quality to them… He’d been through so much. They both had. “What I don’t understand is why you hid this from me, Viktor. Knowing that I didn’t remember anything, that all that we’d built together was dust in the wind is kind of painful. I know I got to fall in love all over again but, well, why?”

                “I’m so sorry…” The other man whispered as he buried his face into Yuuri’s shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck in adoration, brushing away stray tresses of long, dark hair as he did, “it was protocol. None of us were certain about exactly how you would respond to the memories relating to the institute, to memories of the incident, especially with the extensive damage to your brain, to your hippocampus… habituation was the prime directive, and memories were to be slowly reintroduced. Of course, two stupid kids decided they knew better so that was all thrown to the wind. I guess… I was just afraid of seeing you get hurt again.”

                “But a gun to the head?” Yuuri said with a low groan as Viktor’s lips mouthed over a particularly sensitive part of his throat, “I know you always had a flair for the dramatic but that legitimately scared the shit out of me…”

                “I wasn’t lying about wandering for four months,” Viktor murmured, his voice low and breathy in Yuuri’s ear, “they changed the program perimeters so much that I was dropped two cities over. Had to simulate Makkachin to keep me sane. I wasn’t sure if you were real, or something they cooked up once they realised I’d joined their silly game.”

                “Well, I guess that makes sense…” He sighed contentedly, running his hands over the other man’s slender thighs. Despite everything, the previous representation of his lover had been realistic enough in that regard, his body was toned and lithe and undeniably beautiful. “Still unfair though.”

                “I could say the same thing about you…” Viktor said, pressing a smile against Yuuri’s jaw as he continued peppering him with gentle kisses, “at least you were self-sufficient enough to grow food and clean your own water. I fucking ate dog food, or at least, whatever my brain thinks dog food tastes like…”

                “No one forced you to,” Yuuri said with a laugh, cocking his head to the side as he pulled back to look at Viktor’s face once more, “you literally could’ve chosen anything else…”

                “fair enough…” Viktor said, his eyes heavily lidded behind those long silver lashes as he met Yuuri’s dark eyes, a warm twinkle in them, “you got me there. You always were more logical in your intuition.”

                “What do we do now Vitya?” Yuuri said as he rested his hands on Viktor’s chest, still getting used to the slightly dulled sensation in his left hand, “tell me what do we do when all we’ve got is logic and love on our side?”

                “Right now?” Viktor murmured softly, leaning in closer, inches away from Yuuri’s face, “I want to keep kissing you and holding you until you fuck me silly.”

                _God, he knows how thirsty and gay I am. He can’t be doing this to me in this state._

“As much as I appreciate that thought, Viktor, I can barely walk properly on this thing yet.” Yuuri muttered, “So even if I thought it was a good idea, which I do, don’t get me wrong, maybe it’s not exactly the best time and place for that.”

                “So later then?” Viktor asked hopefully, punctuating his question with a kiss.

                “Later would be nice.” He said airily, rearranging himself in the chair so that he was sprawled across Viktor’s lap. “I’m not going to lie, today’s been a pretty long day so I might just… kinda kip off.”

                “fair enough.” Viktor said, delicately running the artificial fingers of his right hand through Yuuri’s hair as they watched the light grow golden and long from under the glass of the atrium walls, “I don’t mind.”

                Yuuri’s eyes gently fluttered shut as, for the first time in a long time, sleep came peacefully, unimpeded.

                When he opened his eyes again, the sky was dark and blanketed with stars as he felt a gentle rocking. The crescent moon, always a crescent, illuminated the quiet, empty streets with a pale glow that washed the world in hues of silvery blue. His head was rested gently against the lean muscle of Viktor’s back as the other man slowly but surely carried him through the silent night, his arms securely tucked under his knees.

                “I can climb down now if you want…” Yuuri said in a dreamy voice, the last remnants of sleep still clinging onto every syllable.

                “It’s alright. Rest. You’ve been through so much…” Viktor replied softly, as though the moment was less about convenience and more of a ritual of atonement, “please let me carry you home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, this one is a bit short, a bit more of that "emotional debriefing" type stuff because these poor boys have a lot to unpack.
> 
> originally I had a bit here about the nature of their physical avatars but it was really clunky and inorganic so here's the skinny of it in AUTHOR'S NOTE FORM because I'm a professional:
> 
> \- the initial avatars undertaken in _Collecon_ reflect their user's cognitions and perceptions of the self. In this case, their users both had damaged cognitions due to trauma and their response to that. Viktor appeared as a mixture of his adult and adolescent self due to the fear of loss, with a large autopsy scar representing not only the fear that the person he loved the most had died along with him, but his complex about becoming reborn and moving on from the past. Yuuri appeared as he was in 2017 because he was unaware that he should look different. Both of them were reflective of Denial, hence why their appearance was corrected to reflect their true bodies once they completed the truth. : >
> 
> AND NOW DEAR READERS, I TURN THE TABLES TO YOU: we can continue the plot or allow these boys to take a well-deserved rest and sneak in a quick scene where Viktor gets fucked silly (which will otherwise be an extra). I would love to hear what you would like to see first!  
> (since we're approaching the denouement and all)


	15. Pillowtalk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys enjoy a lazy morning, and by a lazy morning I mean they absolutely take the time to indulge in some intimate bonding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By popular demand, Yuuri and Viktor take some time to fuck Viktor silly.  
> This is it, this is the _I'm sorry I'm a self-indulgent gay part II_ chapter. 
> 
> They needed some downtime, and since they're both thirsty af it all works out in the end. I'm still not the best at writing these things despite being this gay so mea culpa lads.

                When Yuuri woke up again he was in his Star Wars flavoured love nest, gently tucked under thick layers of soft, fluffy blankets. He yawned, stretching his arms skywards as he experimentally flexed his fingers, feeling the gentle cool of the room with its drawn curtains. The light was stained a gentle pinkish tone as it passed through the replica of the red curtains his mother had sewn for him when he’d moved into his first apartment. He remembered shaking his head, insisting that he could just stop by the hardware store and find some cheap Venetian blinds, but she insisted on the homemade touch.

                It gave the room a cosy feeling, even though it was merely a figment of his imagination, a construct made to match his real one. He’d figured maybe his brain would come up with a hot tub or something, but this was nice too. He rolled onto his side, smiling as his eyes met Viktor’s.

                “Good morning,” He said warmly, watching the way his hair fanned out on the pillow, the pale silver almost warm in the pink light. His eyes were dreamy and bleary with the traces of sleep, “how did you sleep?”

                “I had the most beautiful dream,” Viktor said, stretching out a hand and stroking Yuuri’s cheek, “you were in it, your pants were not.”

                “What am I going to do with you?” Yuuri said with a playful click of his tongue, “you’re such a scoundrel.”

                “God, you have no idea…” Viktor said smiling back, his eyes twinkling with mischief and excitement.

                “If you don’t mind,” Yuuri said softly, pulling in closer to the other man, “I would love for you to show me, Viktor.”

                “I would love to,” He replied, closing up any remaining space between the two, his skin warm and flush against Yuuri’s as he pulled the smaller man into a deep kiss.

                Viktor ran his tongue over Yuuri’s lower lip as if to ask permission to enter, drawing a long breathy sigh out of him as he obliged, parting his lips. Their tongues met, warm and wet as they explored each other’s mouths hungrily, burning with the pent-up passion that had collected in their chests. Yuuri’s teeth gently grazed his partner’s lower lip as they pulled back from the embrace, breathless but happy.

                Viktor’s strong, athletic arms made their way around Yuuri as he pulled him closer still, rolling onto his back so that the dark-haired man was straddling him. Yuuri let out a small, surprised noise as he was unexpectedly moved, but decidedly enjoyed this vantage point. He gazed adoringly at the body splayed out below him, silvery hair forming a loose halo around that beautiful face. He traced a gentle line around his lover’s sharp jaw, appreciating the sculptural, almost androgynous nature of his fine features. The man’s lashes fluttered slightly at the touch as Yuuri took in every angle, every curve of his face with his new limb. He smiled as he watched those soft lips purse slightly with a contented sigh as he leant in again, planting another warm kiss on them before indulging in a shameless nibble on the taller man’s lower lip, noting the slight hitching in his chest as he did.

                He lowered his hands, placing them on Viktor’s strong chest, feeling the warm smoothness of his skin. He smiled as he gently thumbed over the small surgical scar on his ribs, a tiny reminder of the battles he had won. Yuuri felt a warm swell in his chest as the other man hungrily attacked his lips once more, letting a soft, throaty noise out when Yuuri’s fingertips brushed over a pert nipple.

                _So, he’s still sensitive there, that’s good to know._ Yuuri thought to himself, smiling internally as he sucked on Viktor’s tongue for a moment, drawing it into his mouth and meeting it with his own as he continued mapping out his lover’s warm flesh. He found himself letting out an involuntary gasp of his own as the other man seemed to return the favour, the mechanical hand firmly kneading his soft ass.

                “You’re so soft and beautiful…” Viktor said breathlessly, as they separated their lips for a moment. “It’s been so hard to keep my hands off you for so long. I missed this so much…”

                “That’s not the only thing that’s hard, isn’t it?” Yuuri whispered into his lover’s ear, enjoying the shiver of anticipation that it produced. “You’ve been poking into my thigh for the past five minutes now.”

                “Indeed, I have,” He replied with a cocky grin, his lips slightly bruised and swollen from their clash against Yuuri’s, giving him an incredibly fuckable air, “what do you suggest we do about it?”

                “What was it you suggested yesterday…” Yuuri said in a faux-pensive tone, cocking his head to the side as he leant in closer, “I think it was I _fuck you silly_ , was it not?”

                 “God I love it when you talk dirty like that,” Viktor groaned in a deep, throaty purr, leaning his head back onto the pillow, giving Yuuri access to the smooth, pale skin of his throat. Yuuri obliged, kissing it experimentally, allowing his teeth to gently graze the surface as he kneaded it with his tongue. His hips bucked slightly as Viktor responded to his affections with delightful, barely stifled moans and sharp gasps, fingers squeezing the soft, pliable flesh of his ass.

                Yuuri allowed himself to explore further, tentatively placing kisses on Viktor’s torso, tasting the taught, muscular flesh, revelling in the deep breaths and sharp gasps as he mouthed over a particularly sensitive erogenous zone on the other man’s body. He felt himself harden as he lapped at a nipple, teasing it with his lips, drawing a soft cooing moan from Viktor’s throat.

                “Yuuri,” Viktor said, his voice strained and heavy with excitement and desire, “you’re such a tease.”

                It was at the same time incredibly familiar and novel, as though he were rediscovering a cherished treasure he’d lost a long time ago. He pulled away from his lover’s chest for a moment, feeling a warmth pooling on the base of his stomach, spreading towards his pelvic region as he hesitantly placed another lovebite under his lover’s collarbones, the blooming red bruise contrasting with the stretch of milky white. Viktor curled in, reciprocating, allowing his lips to clash against Yuuri’s warm flesh. He let out a breathy gasp as the other man pulled back, running a thumb over the matching hickey on Yuuri’s neck.

                Reminders that they were real, marks to prove that they had survived this long, memories painted into their skin that would last for a while. Yuuri shivered slightly as Viktor’s hand returned to its occupation of tracing the lines of his spine and scapula, massaging the muscles that rested under that ever-so-pleasant layer of softness.

                He paused for a moment, drawing a weak, needy whimper out of Viktor as he leant over and reached into the drawer of his bedside table, his fingers fumbling about with the various miscellanea that had collected there over the years. Finally, he found the small container of warming lubricant that he was looking for, chucking the tube onto the bed beside them. He then returned his attention to Viktor, his blue eyes heavily lidded, dark, and desperate with desire.

                “Only because you like it so much Vitya,” Yuuri replied, his voice deep and velvety as he slowly dragged himself lower, nuzzling the sculptural pelvic v of Viktor’s hipbones, “the results don’t lie… still, I guess I should throw you a bone since you’ve been so good so far…”

                “Fuck Yuuri…” Viktor gasped sharply, his fingers grasping at the sheets, his back arching as Yuuri tentatively mouthed at Viktor’s erect cock, licking a warm, damp line along the underside. He smiled, appreciating how violently the other man reacted to the stimulation. He swivelled his tongue around the head, tasting the warm, firm flesh as he drew more sharp breaths from his lover. He took him further into his mouth, bobbing his head gently and teasing Viktor with his tongue as he hollowed his cheeks. Viktor’s fingers curled in his hair, the slightly sharper fingertips of his mechanical hand digging slightly into his scalp as the other man panted in pleasure, his hips shuddering slightly as Yuuri sucked him off, revelling in the moment. “It feels, ah, so good… so wet and warm…”

                Yuuri reached beside him as he continued teasing Viktor’s thick, heavy member with his tongue, palming the tube of lube and drizzling some on his mechanical left hand, excited to know just how it would feel inside his lover. He gently ran his fingers along Viktor’s thigh as he stopped just before the other man’s entrance.

                “Can I?” He asked as he pulled away from Viktor’s cock for a moment. His voice was breathy and heavy, his lips and mouth slightly bruised and tired from being fucked, “Vitya…”

                Viktor nodded enthusiastically. “I want to suck you first, please…”

                Yuuri smiled as he crawled back up from his nestled position between Viktor’s legs, gently peppering him with kisses as he made his way to the other man’s shoulders. Viktor propped himself up slightly on the pillows as he kissed Yuuri under the navel, nuzzling his soft tummy. Yuuri blushed slightly at the contact, still slightly self-conscious about the softness of it, but also delighted at the warmth of Viktor’s breath against the small strip of dark hair, which he was following right to Yuuri’s crotch.

                Yuuri threw his head back with a contented, throaty groan as Viktor took him into his mouth, bobbing enthusiastically as he massaged the sensitive area under his head, where the foreskin gently peeled back, with his warm, powerful, wet tongue. “God Viktor, you’re so fucking good at this… You’re so fucking hot between my legs like that. If you’re not careful I’ll fucking cum before you get to have your fun…”

                Viktor’s lids fluttered shut as he let out a gentle moan of approval around Yuuri’s cock. Yuuri leant back slightly as he lazily stroked Viktor’s member, smearing warm, tingly lubricant on him. He rocked his hips slightly, allowing himself to enjoy the warm pressure of the other man’s lips on him, his tongue sending electric sparks through his pelvic basin as it swept over every sensitive spot on his cock.

                He gently pulled away from Viktor, with a gentle pop, earning him a small, needy whimper.

                 “Don’t worry love, it won’t be for long…” Yuuri said with a warm smile as he gently kissed the other man’s jaw, adding more lubricant to his fingers as he did. He softly pressed at Viktor’s entrance, gently pushing a mechanical digit into him. Viktor’s hips shifted under him as he let out a breathy moan, turning his lips to Yuuri’s and kissing him as he gently pumped it back and forth. He kissed back, deeply, his tongue exploring Viktor’s mouth with fervent excitement as the other man ground his hips onto the artificial hand. He felt delightfully warm and tight on the slicked-up plastic, which was surprisingly exciting in a strange way.

                 He felt the cool plastic of Viktor’s right hand on his cock as the other man pumped him vigorously, slick wet sounds echoing through their private chamber. He gasped, rolling his hips to the tempo as he pushed a second finger into the panting, moaning man below him, drawing out another lewd noise from the other man’s throat.

                 “Fuck Viktor,” Yuuri panted excitedly as he planted another kiss onto the other man’s lips, “you’re so tight… I can’t wait to fuck you. You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

                 “Please Yuuri…” Viktor said in a needy whimper, shuddering as Yuuri’s fingers lightly scissored inside him, stretching him, exploring and prodding at the sensitive flesh within, “more…”

                 “Alright darling,” Yuuri crooned, pulling back slightly, kneeling gently as he regretfully removed his index and middle fingers from his lover, “Please turn around for me…”

                 Viktor nodded excitedly, his breath shallow and rapid as he shuffled on the bed. He wordlessly lifted his hips, his eyes twinkling warmly with expectation. Yuuri took a moment to appreciate the view, the lean lines of his trapezius muscles as his arms were propped on the pillows, the gentle curve of his spine as it lead to his firm ass. He slicked himself with warm, tingly lube as he gently kissed the dip of his spine, right above his tailbone. He leant in closer to Viktor, breathing in the familiar scent of instant coffee, cigarette smoke, men’s cologne and forget-me-nots as he pushed himself in slowly, carefully, groaning as he felt the tight clench of muscle around his cock.

                 “You doing alright, Vitya?” He smiled, his voice heavy and strained with pleasure.

                 “God, yes…” Viktor said breathlessly, his head bowed. “You’re so hot. Please, more…”

                 “I’m glad,” Yuuri replied in a gentle purr, thrusting slowly at first, pumping his hips into the other man as he revelled in the tight warmth of the other man, fucking him softly, lovingly. He felt warm, excited, throaty groans and pants building within his throat as he felt the other man squeeze him tightly, his own hips bucking in tandem with the smaller man's. His body felt warm, light, almost as though it had transcended physicality and been utterly reduced to a flurry of atoms and emotions. “God Viktor, I love you so much…”

                 “Yuuri…” Viktor gasped one more, shifting his hips as Yuuri clearly hit the sweet spot, drawing longing sighs and loud vocalisations. He fucked himself onto Yuuri’s length, shuddering and letting out barely coherent strings that may or may not have been real words. Yuuri responded in kind, pounding hard and fast, driving friction against the sensitive organ. He felt an abnormally intense warmth pooling in his pelvis as the friction and tightness threatened to drive him over the edge.

                 “Fuck, Vitya… I’m not gonna last much longer.” Yuuri said, his voice straining as he pumped his hips harder.

                 “It’s okay, please… Yuuri…” Viktor panted excitedly, “Please come for me.”

                 “Ah, fuck…” He stopped, his head flying back, his long black hair whipping in a fluid motion as he saw white, bright white stars, as he came. It was clear that Viktor was close, so incredibly close as he shifted below, riding out Yuuri’s orgasm, drawing as much pleasure as he could as Yuuri spilt inside him.

                 He wrapped his left hand around Viktor’s cock once more, pumping as he slowly descended from cloud nine. It turned out this was all it took to send Viktor over the precipice as well as he came with a choked cry and more curse words Yuuri was thankful he didn’t know.

                 They collapsed, spent, happy, sweaty and ruined, their limbs entangled as they drew each other closer, basking in the collective afterglow of pleasure and love that radiated from their skin.

                 “I needed that…” Viktor sighed, nuzzling into Yuuri’s long hair, “I needed that so badly Yuuri. You’re still so fucking incredible, so beautiful, so hot.”

                 “I could say the same things about you, Vitya,” Yuuri whispered softly into his beloved’s ear. “Despite everything, this is still nice…”

                 “But it will be nicer when we get home, right?” Viktor murmured softly.

                 “Of course. We’ll make it out of this together.” Yuuri smiled, pressing a gentle kiss onto his forehead.

                 For now, they would enjoy the stillness of the morning. They deserved this.

                 


	16. Snowflakes in July

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor discuss their plan to leave _Collecon_ and explore the city streets once more, finding more weather abnormalities and an unexpected face...

Yuuri’s mechanical fingers clicked on the touchscreen of the phone as he looked over the latest message from Anima and Trickster. Honestly, after meeting the boy himself (or at least, what seemed to be a projection of him), he had pegged him as one of those lonely types, the kids who were too smart for their own good and instead decided to do as they pleased without regard for others as long as it cut into the boredom of being _exceptional_.

 He shuddered to think that perhaps, had he not been quite so meek and unassuming a person, he too would’ve gone down that path, looking for a cheap thrill to break the monotony of daily life.

****_CONGRATULATIONS YUURI SENPAI! SO COOL!_  
TIME FOR LEVEL 2!!  
LOVE TRICKSTER ( & ANIMA) 

                 “Level two, huh?” He sighed, tired of these cryptic messages. Honestly, level two could mean just about anything, although if contextual clues were anything to go by, it seemed like level two would mean that the anything goes attitude towards the laws of physics would probably be even more lackadaisical.

                “I was never a fan of video games,” Viktor muttered, taking a sip of instant coffee as he pat Makkachin on the head, “that was always your bag, I’m afraid.”

                “I honestly would rather not be in one, I’m not going to lie,” Yuuri said stretching his arms, “so, I’ve been thinking and I need you to okay this plan...”

                “Something tells me I’m not going to like it,” Viktor said as he watched Yuuri from behind the mug, worry quirking its way onto his brows.

                “You won’t.” Yuuri said with a sigh, gently reaching out across the table, laying his fingers on top of Viktor’s, “but I need you to trust me ok?”

                “You promised not to die…” Viktor said in a tone that betrayed that his heart had started beating fast in his chest. He put down the coffee cup and held Yuuri’s hands firmly in his own, “as long as that still stands, I’ll trust you to the ends of the world.”

                “That’s good,” Yuuri said, trying to give the other man a reassuring smile, “because that’s exactly what we’re going to do. End the world. To get out, I mean…”

                Viktor’s eyes fell to the ground as he leant forward, resting his forehead on their linked hands, the pale skin contrasting with the shiny black of the artificial limb. “I can’t. That’s too dangerous. We don’t know what will happen to you if we shut down the system before you’re organically ready to wake up. It’s meant to sustain your brain activity, but that means that your mind perceives it as real… if you die in here that’s it.”

                “What other choices do we have, Vitya?” Yuuri whispered as he slowly leant towards the other man, meeting his face with his own, only separated by the linked hands between them, “there’s no saying if I’ll ever wake up regardless. We can’t stay in here forever, especially not with the… alterations they made. You need to go back too, we both do. We need to be real. Besides, I don’t intend to die, Vitya.”

                Viktor’s blue eyes looked up at him, brimming with tears, “I’ll hold you to that, Yuuri.”

                “Of course, I promise,” Yuuri said with a weak smile. Deep down, they both knew that he had no real way of promising that, no real way of knowing what would happen when the world ended for real. “We should go see what they did now, right?”

                Viktor nodded, slowly standing to his feet. He flashed a confident smile as he rubbed his eyes with the back of his sleeve, wiping away any traces of anxiety along with the tears (although whether this was for Yuuri’s benefit or his own was unknown). He picked up his satchel and threw it over his shoulder, giving Makkachin a last scratch behind the ears.

                Although she wasn’t the original, she was still a good dog and that couldn’t be denied.

                Yuuri followed him over to the exit, smiling as the other man held the door open for him. Despite the fact that it was a _look_ , they’d both decided to ditch the hospital gowns in favour of more practical wear, Yuuri in Viktor’s leather jacket (which had somehow found its way back into their apartment), Viktor having borrowed the old university hoodie, which somehow looked less like _slovenly depression wear_ and more like _shabby-chic vintage wear_ on the other man.

                Almost like they were a normal couple in entirely normal circumstances, borrowing each other’s clothes without really asking, enjoying the casual contact of wearing something imbued with the other’s essence.

                They held hands as they exited the apartment, noting that the daylight had been significantly toned down from the overly bright, harsh lighting of the last day. It seemed, instead, that it was perpetually trapped in the long, golden glow of the late afternoon. A chill wind carried through the air, causing Yuuri’s short ponytail to flutter in a manner he wasn’t quite used to yet. He pulled closer to Viktor, unnerved by the atmosphere as an errant snowflake fell against the frames of his glasses, melting into a small droplet of water.

                _Snowflakes in July._

He caught a snowflake in his hand, remarking that it didn’t feel particularly cold, but seemed to melt into a tiny drop of water regardless. It was, for intents and purposes, perfectly ordinary snow except that the fat flakes were falling in the middle of a sunny summer afternoon. Part of Yuuri supposed that this was preferable to the biting petals of the forget me not flowers, but it was still disconcerting.

                He looked around, noticing with horror that the city was crumbling around them, very slowly, large pieces of debris would just gently peel off the structures that surrounded them, floating unnaturally in the air around them.

                “What do you think Ducky Katsuki? Where should we go next?” Viktor asked, holding the yellow rubber duck in his palm. Yuuri wasn’t sure how it had ended up back in the pockets of the hooded sweater, but there was something almost funny about it.

                The duck did not respond.

                “That’s disappointing,” Yuuri replied, shaking his head with a blithe smile, “I guess we have to explore then?”

                Viktor nodded as the pair made their way down the street, leaving footprints in the thin layer of snow on the pavement that seemed to fade away after a few minutes. Around them, the streets seemed entirely ordinary besides for the fact that they were still and silent under the soft blanket of white snowfall. If the buildings weren’t slowly disintegrating it would probably look quite romantic…

                Yuuri’s eyes flitted across the streets, searching for anything remarkable, any clue as to where they would need to go next, any ideas as to how to beat the game once and for all. Much like the gently falling snow, however, everything seemed silent. Storefronts, abandoned by all life, were the same as they’d always been, advertising goods in elaborate displays as a delicate coat of frost created icy fractals in the windows. The golden light seemed to illuminate everything in a warm glow, almost as though it were the holidays… Still, and warm, a silent.

                Until he heard it, a gentle throbbing baseline, electric guitar cutting in as drums accentuated the stark bass rift in a manner that would be slightly disconcerting, especially when paired with the disconcerting, slightly off-putting vocals of David Byrne…

**_Ce que j'ai fait, ce soir-là/ Ce qu'elle a dit, ce soir-là/ Réalisant mon espoir/ Je me lance, vers la gloire, OK/ Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah/ We are vain and we are blind/ I hate people when they're not polite_ **

“ _The Talking Heads?_ ” Yuuri asked with a frown, furrowing his brows. He turned to Viktor to make sure he wasn’t hearing things.

                “It’s coming from over there…” The other man said, cocking his head towards the end of the small commercial avenue, which had been enveloped in a thin sheet of white spiralling mist, the empty void of nothingness blending seamlessly with the stretch of snowy street ahead of them.

                The pair ran to the edge of the road, towards the music, Yuuri noted that Viktor seemed tense, his pale hand curled around the dark grip of the handgun that rested in a holster on his leg. Yuuri found his own right hand travel to the handle of the hunting knife, which was still stained with a dry coat of translucent blue from the stems of the plants.

**_Psycho Killer/ Qu'est-ce que c'est/ Fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-far better/ Run run run run run run run away oh oh oh_ **

                As they made their way to the edge of the street, Yuuri saw him. A young man, his bottle-green eyes glaring in their general direction as long, unkempt blond hair whipped in the wind. He wore a white doctor’s jacket over what appeared to be a sweater with a graphic of a tiger with a bowtie and a pair of ripped black leggings which gave him the appearance of a teenager dressing up in his older brother’s professional wear. His lips were curled up in an expression that was half-grin, half-sneer as he watched them approach.

                “If you shoot me again old man,” He said flatly, his voice heavily tinged in a thick Russian accent, “I am going to fucking scream.”

                “Is that a dare…” Viktor answered, shaking his head as he frowned, “why did you come back?”

                “I didn’t get to meet him last time. I was curious.” The boy replied, turning his blue-green eyes to Yuuri. His eyes were intense, unblinking, and seemed to be digging into his skin, trying to pry some sort of answer from within him. Yuuri pulled Viktor’s jacket up higher, feeling a sudden chill that seemed to accompany his gaze. “I must admit, your little piggy is very underwhelming in the flesh.”

                _With that attitude, I think I can see why this guy apparently has a history of getting shot…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we're back to plot developments!  
> (even if this chapter is a bit on the short side, sorry)
> 
> also wow Yuri, that's rude.


	17. Like A Pheonix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri confronts the other Yuri and seeks more answers.  
> It goes about as well as he expected.

                Yuuri watched as Viktor’s finger curled around the trigger of the handgun, driving what looked like a glowing hot blue bullet into the young boy’s shoulder. He gasped, lifting his hand to his face in wide-eyed terror.

                “Vitya… what did you do?” He asked, his voice weak with anxiety. He watched in abject horror, unable to process what had just happened.

                _Vitya just fucking shot that kid._

                “I didn’t like that tone.” Viktor said, cocking his head back with a surprisingly cold smile, “do you want to try again, Yuri.”

                “I don’t understand…” Yuuri muttered, uptalking as though the statement was a question, put off by how casually his partner was responding to the act of shooting a child in the arm. Even if the wound was non-fatal, it seemed surprisingly heartless, callous of him even.

                “Not you love, I mean _Senior Assistant Researcher Yuri Plisetsky_ here,” Viktor replied, his tone softer as he rubbed the back of Yuuri’s hand with his unarmed hand in a gentle reassuring gesture, “he’s alright, unfortunately. It’s not really him, little coward ran away after him and the little Japanese kid uploaded their little program to the system. It’s an offsite avatar, operated from their little hidey hole and therefore perfectly capable of taking a few more of these. He never got fitted with a proper rig, and there’s a good fucking reason for that.”

                “Offsite?” He frowned, figuring that the Japanese kid in question was probably Trickster, which would logically make this Anima. _Yuri Plisetsky_ … the name was familiar, he remembered it from Viktor’s memories. “Isn’t this guy supposed to be one of the system administrators, or at least part of the dev team?”

                The boy laughed coldly from his position across from them, his fingers brushing against the empty hollow space the bullet created. The wound was clean, not bleeding as though the bullet had torn into something organic but had rather carved a clean path through reality instead, creating an empty hole that passed through his body like a small tunnel, “Like he’d ever give anyone else permission to touch his little toys. Piggy, your boyfriend here is the proudest blowhard I ever met, next to your little fanboy I mean. You got a fucking magnet for boys with obvious trust issues who somehow fall for your unimpressive ass or do you just give them all slobbery blowjobs?”

                “Well I mean,” Yuuri started, wincing a little at the rude nickname and opting to ignore the unsavoury question, “to be fair you haven’t exactly given us much reason to trust you, assuming this is your fault.”

                “He’ll never admit it, but it’s for a good reason,” The blonde said with a cocky, self-assured smirk, “you’re stronger now. Before any of this, how would you react to adversity… you would go back to bed and curl under your blankets, waiting for the world to crumble around you. Now look, you’ve gotten to level two, you’ve faced the painful truths that this coward wanted to hide from you, you’ve transcended pain. You’re transcending death. It’s extraordinary.”

                Click. Bang. Another bullet in the arm.

                “Vitya!” Yuuri Yelped, watching the bright blue bullet carve another tunnel through the boy’s arm, golden light streaming through the twin pinpricks in a disconcerting manner, as though Yuri Plisetsky lacked any flesh, any muscle and bone. He couldn’t help but feel some sympathy pains in his limbs as his eyes fixed the unnatural wounds.

                “I didn’t like that tone either. Gamble with your own life next time, asshole.” Viktor barked, his tone dark and aggressive. His lips had curled into a grim snarl, his teeth bared like a dominant animal that was about to lunge at an insubordinate enemy’s throat to tear out their jugular.

                “Oh sure, every time you are unhappy, just shoot me, old man. That’s a good fucking solution for all your problems, idiot!” The boy shouted, “this is why no one wants to work with you… so fucking obsessed with keeping your little piggy alive that you would keep him in statis forever. We created the next step in evolution Animus.”

                “You’re not allowed to use my administrator title.” Viktor replied coldly, “is that all you came to do, gloat and play my records?”

                “God the records…” The boy groaned, turning his gleaming eyes to Yuuri as he rubbed his temples, “I blame you, you know. Every fucking day he played them, your stupid dad prog nonsense. All day, all night, just Yes and Genesis and the Talking Fucking Heads…”

                “I mean,” Yuuri started, “obviously, you didn’t hate it so much since you’re playing it now…”

                The other Yuri laughed, a dry sarcastic laugh that made Yuuri realise that perhaps everyone needed to chill and get some group therapy or something. Office politics be damned, there was something unusually tense in the air.

“You caught me. This one is alright, makes me think of the old radio grandpa’s house.” His eyes narrowed, softening with a note of something almost tragic gleaming behind those pale blond lashes, “hey Katsudon, how do you feel about loss... Did dying hurt?”

                “Dying?” Yuuri said as he furrowed his brow, “I don’t think I follow. I survived the crash, didn’t I?”

                “Yes, you did. The old bastard’s memories were honest enough, although he did neglect to include the fact that for almost twenty-four hours, you were dead. You were almost taken to get your guts redistributed but then, well, the old man begged them to _please double check I’m begging you_ … and sure enough, you came back to life like a damned phoenix.” The boy said casually looking at his finger nails as he spoke, small sparks of bright blue and magenta pooled on them from the edges of the punctures that had been carved through him by Viktor’s pistol. The effect reminded Yuuri of a broken VHS tape, decaying around the edges, the image tearing itself apart as the celluloid strained. “Everything except your supposedly brilliant mind.”

                _Holy shit. That’s… something._

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think being uh, dead… hurt much.” Yuuri started uncertainly, “What does that have to do with any of this, though, if you don’t mind me asking. I know the other guy, Trickster, said something about bringing me back but I’m afraid it was vague…”

                The boy laughed again, “That guy is such a fucking tool, isn’t he? Don’t you see, it has everything to do with what’s going on here, Katsudon.”

                He stepped back, gesticulating at the nothingness, as though he was trying to make them understand a greater revelation, the answer to some cosmic question imbued in the falling snow. After a surprisingly fluid turn, he walked closer to the pair, something a little wild in his eyes. Yuuri recognised many things, the thirst to prove oneself, the misguided conviction of someone who thought they’d found the solution, and a hint of over compensatory passion, belying a secret fear that everything would crumble through his fingers… the fear of losing the game.

                An expression he’d seen reflected in his own eyes when he looked in the mirror at times.

                “Congratulations, Katsudon. Animus. We’re the next logical projection of man… If we can make it work, no one else has to lose anymore. No one has to lose to bone cancer or a stupid accident or… age.”

                “Are you fucking done?” Viktor asked sharply, “we’ve been over this be-”

                Yuuri gently held out a hand, trying to silence Viktor’s anger. He gave the other man a soft look, his dark eyes sympathetic and warm as he gently locked eyes with the younger boy.

                “I understand,” He said softly, “a world without grief or dying, where we can grow and experience the psycho social moratorium from the comfort of a hospital bed and our own heads. It’s tempting, Yurio. I understand you think you’re doing this for the best, but pushing people like this, into a revolution they can’t comprehend will just hurt them. That’s what you wanted to do, isn’t it? Hurt me because I came back… and who ever you lost didn’t?”

                The boy stepped back as if he’d been shot for real. His eyes hardened as he seemed to struggle with the question. He glared at them, his eyes twitching from Viktor to Yuuri.

                Wordlessly, he pulled his own pistol, a small silvery object with a pale blue sheen, very similar to Viktor’s from the medical jacket, raising it to his temple. With a click, the image of Yuuri Plisetsky shattered into a million magenta and cyan particles, explosively spraying into the air as the wind carried them off. The offsite avatar had deactivated itself.

                The words “ **EnJOY LEVEL 2  ASSHoLEs. FUCK YOU** ” appeared in the air, hanging unnaturally where the boy had stood in luminescent blue text before fading out of existence.

                “I never liked his fucking attitude,” Viktor muttered, angrily sheathing his firearm. “That’s why you don’t work with children or animals, Yuuri.”

                “Co-signed and noted, Vitya,” Yuuri said wrinkling his nose slightly at the insult.

**_Psycho Killer/ Qu'est-ce que c'est/ Fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-far better/ Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, away oh oh oh/ Yeah yeah yeah yeah oh!_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Methinks Yuuri touched on one of the kitten's sore spots :<
> 
> Not gonna lie, that was a bit megalomaniacal of him...


	18. AN I N T E R L U D E // welcome to level 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri make the painful transition to the next level

                Yuuri felt light, infinitely light. Weightless. As though he was nothing. A speck. A particle. A mass of atoms barely holding shape.

                That’s because he was floating, gently floating amongst the spread of the void, white snowflakes gently falling against him, catching in his hair and eyelashes, cold against his skin. He blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the bright light around him but finding that, no matter what, it was just too much. Around him, particles of the firmament, the ground, buildings, rubble and scraps of plants fluttered in the air like they were full of helium. like ninety-nine red balloons, floating in the summer sky…

                He closed his eyes again.

                A loud bang, the rocking of the train, jerking, the scent of iron. Piercing, dull, throbbing pain above his eye. He’d been weightless then too. Oh right, it had almost gone through him, part of the train’s roof, breaching the thick layer of bone, into his brain, right into his pre-frontal lobe before rebounding off it and falling on top of his splayed limbs instead. He wanted to laugh, even though none of it was funny. Instead, he kept his eyes closed. The memory came fairly casually, as though it had merely been a bland, mundane event that only mildly got under his skin, as opposed to a world-changing catastrophe that involved being trapped in a cage of warped metal for hours, maybe days, on end.

_He felt light._

                He heard Viktor from miles away, calling his name. The voices of others, blending together just out of reach, as though he had been submerged in a pool of water, his lungs filling with liquid as everyone clambered above the surface, unable to reach down and pull him back out. The scent of antiseptic. The touch of gloved fingers on his neck, a sharp gasp as they felt the trill of his pulse. The feel of an intravenous drip being inserted into his arms as he was rushed to intensive care, resuscitated, unexpectedly alive.

_He felt infinitely light._

                He felt warm tears against his skin, as though they were ripples against the surface, notes of music breaking through radio static as fingers rotated the knob, seeking sound to break the meaningless noise. An album by Yes, carted around even though its owner lacked the means to play it. A protective talisman. Gently placed into Viktor's hands for safe keeping as he lost himself to the music for hours as though it were the only thing keeping him tied to this world.

_He felt weightless._

                He heard the sound, the voice, breaking through the blanket of fog. Viktor, Viktor his love, his voice calling him back from the blinding white light.

                I AM **H E R E**. I WILL **S A V E** YOU.

                _He felt as though he was nothing._

Everything comes back to him in the end. His blue eyes. The shimmering blue of the forget-me-nots. The blue tint of the bullet. The endless blue sky he was falling into. The bright blue of the raspberry lemonade, so tart on his tongue. He smiled, cherishing the memory, the way the deep, rich colour seemed strangely warm despite being a cool colour by definition.

_He felt as though he was a mass of atoms barely holding shape._

                “Ones and zeroes,” He heard himself say, his voice sounding strangely magnified by the cheap white plastic clip-on microphone he was wearing, “binary code. On and off. An action potential, firing through a n-neuron, unable to stop. It’s my… my theory that we can adapt the ones and zeroes to… to the human brain. To that action potential…”

                A bad memory. Another failure from which he’d fled.

                But one that had changed him nonetheless, had led him to fall in love. Fate was strange that way, serendipitously thrusting him into the arms of the other man, the one he needed, the one who needed him…

                He needed him now. He was needed now. As much as he wished he could fall asleep and keep dreaming in the safe, emptiness of the snowy white void, he needed to be strong.

                He opened his eyes once more.

* * *

 

                **_Level two._**

                Yuuri shuddered, his stomach lurching as his eyes flew open. He had no idea what had come over him, one moment he was standing next to Viktor, watching the blue and pink particles that had once been Anima’s avatar blow gently in chilly gusts of wind, the next his feet had been wrenched from the ground, making him float effortlessly as the city around him crumbled to pieces, like a sand castle being assailed by the coming tide.

                He groaned as he slowly got to his knees, retching as his guts tied themselves in elaborate knots. After many false starts, he finally vomited onto the ground, his chest heaving violently in sharp, painful spasms as he did. It felt as though he had been torn apart and put back together all wrong. His face pulled into a grimace as he wiped his mouth and chin with the back of his sleeve, the bitter taste of bile still strong on the back of his tongue as he stood up shakily. He looked around, noting that the scenery had changed entirely.

                It was peaceful, a meadow of sunflowers reaching for the clear blue sky above sprawling out under the hill on which he stood, stretching on for miles on end. Gentle white clouds drifted by, fluffy and fat amongst stars which should not have been visible during the daytime. He glanced around, pivoting in place, lost in the sea of yellow flowers. Beside him, Viktor laid on the ground, clutching at his gut as he curled in a tight semi-circle, doubled over with a bead of sweat creeping down his furrowed brow. He sat down next to him, gently resting a hand on his forehead, brushing away a strand of silvery hair as he watched him tremble pathetically.

                “It’s going to be okay, Vitya. I’m here…” Yuuri muttered, trying to soothe the other man, “the pain won’t last forever, it’s okay…”

                Viktor whimpered as he fell into Yuuri’s touch, nuzzling against his hand as he shivered on the ground. Yuuri watched the sunflowers wave in the soft breeze below him as he sat on the grassy knoll, the warm rays of the afternoon sun beating down on him as he stroked Viktor’s hair, the pale plastic of his mechanical arm almost blending with the shining tresses. He adjusted his glasses, sighing as he thought about everything he’d been through, all the reflections of his lover that had been hidden in the world around him. It was still surreal to think that he’d been living in something that wasn’t exactly reality for god knows how long. He knew that he felt as though it was 2017 in his head, but if the journal had anything to say about it, it was probably at least four years since then. He felt a pang of regret in his chest as he thought about all the time he’d lost, the people he’d left behind, the world that had probably moved on without him, the grief his absence must've caused everyone around him. Still, he was eternally thankful to at least have Viktor’s company and love to keep him going, a rare blessing amidst a sea of troubles.

                _We’re going to get out of here and face the real world together, no matter what happens._

                Eventually, Viktor’s blue eyes opened too, filled with tears and an expression of fear and discomfort as they flitted about anxiously, unable to focus. He had no idea what had transpired in his head as they’d transitioned to the second level, but he couldn’t imagine it being very pleasant. If Yuuri had been given the reminder that he had died for a while, reminders of his failures and a taste of the fear he’d indirectly caused, then he imagined that whatever tragedy Viktor had tasted was not kind to him either.

                Viktor slowly got up to his feet before keening forward to his knees, vomiting up a strangely pixelated spray of black fluid before gasping for breath. The liquid seemed to sink into the greenery, fading away, much to Yuuri’s relief. He looked at his lover’s confused eyes for a moment before wrapping his arms around him, gently patting his back and working soft, loving caresses into his shoulder blades, resting his hands against the twin planes.

                “Whatever you saw, whatever happened, it’s okay. We’re here together…” He said softly, gently kissing Viktor’s cheek.

                “I saw the day they told me it was bone cancer and that they needed to amputate and remove a rib that had been affected with tumorous growths because it would keep spreading otherwise…” Viktor whispered softly, “and then the day you almost died buried under all the wreckage, bleeding and prone... and then the day they called me in at 3:00 AM because something went wrong in the simulation, something unusual, and they couldn’t get in touch with Dr.Plisetsky…”

                “Oh, Viktor…” Yuuri murmured softly, feeling tears well in his own eyes as his heart sank into his queasy stomach, “I’m so sorry…”

                “That last day, when they uploaded their program…” Viktor said, his voice tight and shallow as he tried to catch his breath, “I thought I’d lost you again. I ran into the room and plugged myself in before anyone had any chance to tell me what happened... I was so afraid, Yuuri...”

                “Viktor…” Yuuri sighed softly, burying his face in the soft, worn cotton of the hooded sweater, inhaling his scent, “I’m so sorry, but it’s alright. Despite everything, we’ve survived, and we’re going to keep doing so…”

                Viktor nodded, similarly burying his face in the crook of Yuuri’s neck, his damp cheeks rubbing against his warm skin. He gently ran a finger over the hickey he had left on Viktor’s neck the previous day, still deep red against his pale flesh. They were still here, still standing, and still real.

                As real as anything could be in a digital representation of their minds could be.

                “Breathe with me…” He whispered, tightening his grip against Viktor’s lean body, “I love you. Please try to breathe…”

                Viktor nodded again, matching the pace of his breath with Yuuri's as he tried to inhale deeply, calming his shallow pants. Yuuri felt his warm breath tickle against his neck as he gently fell into the rhythm, softly sighing as his shoulders raised and fell with every breath. He continued stroking Viktor’s back in small, circular motions, trying to draw out all his fear and anxiety. The man’s body slowly relaxed, the rigid tension in his muscles slowly seeping out of him as he sank into Yuuri’s embrace.

                “I’m sorry, love.” Viktor whispered after a moment of silence, “I didn’t mean to panic like that, I shouldn’t have… especially since you’ve probably been through so much worse.”

                “Hey, it’s okay Vitya,” Yuuri replied, smiling warmly as he gently nuzzled against Viktor’s neck, “it’s okay, you’re allowed to be afraid. It’s not a competition to see who’s hurting the worst…”

                Viktor nodded once more as he gently laid a soft kiss against Yuuri’s neck, “you’re too good to me, Yuuri.”

                Yuuri smiled, gently stroking Viktor’s hair, “you can make it up to me by making some breakfast when we finally wake up from this nonsense.”

                Viktor laughed slightly, his shoulders gently bouncing as he did. The sound made a gentle warmth tickle at Yuuri's cheeks as he chuckled lightly. Things to laugh about hadn't come very easily these days, it seemed, and sometimes the best thing was to simply grab the little moments of warmth where they could find them.

                Despite the challenges ahead, they would be alright.


	19. sunflower fields forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor try to figure out what to do next and find some change within themselves

                  It seemed as though they had been walking for hours in the summer breeze, the sunflowers rippling around them like a bright yellow ocean. The sun hung overhead in the sky at an endless high noon, eternally warm and bright. Occasionally, they found a small splash of red nestled deep within the sea of harsh, endless yellow in the form of a stop or yield sign, something which was a little off-putting.

                “This is the amazing level two then?” Yuuri muttered to himself, kicking over a stray tuft of grass in annoyance, “just… walking. Constant walking, aimless drifting in these flowers....”

                “Seems like it,” Viktor said with a sigh, his eyes still slightly cloudy from the earlier ordeal, “They didn’t really leave us any indication of any deeper purpose or meaning to any of this, did they?”

                “Maybe the real challenge is the fucking tedium.” Yuuri said with a thin, weary smile as he swept his bangs out of his face, feeling like he really needed a haircut, “I’ve always said that hell would be a bureaucracy, like the waiting line at the DMV or something… like your ticket is number ten million and they're currently serving number three.”

                “Or the waiting room at the emergency room…” Viktor said with a weary laugh, “depends on whether or not it’s better to be safe but feel nothing, or in peril but feel the thrill of uncertainty trilling in your blood.”

                “Or both. Maybe it’s both, kinda like a weird field of sunflowers with a couple nonsense ‘wrong way’ signs in it. Who the fuck puts a sign like this in the middle of nowhere?” Yuuri asked, his voice louder and more incredulous than he had intended it to be as he gestured towards the blindingly white traffic sign. “It doesn’t make any sense, there was another one of these in the other direction too…”

                “Same person who puts a train gate in the middle of a meadow despite being nowhere near any tracks,” Viktor replied, a bitter tinge of irony to his voice as he spoke, “it doesn’t have to make sense, it looks good like it means something. It's got deeper meaning, but no one bothered to figure out what that meaning was when they came up with this stupid idea.”

                “So, you’re saying they’re being pretentious?” Yuuri said with a smirk as he rested his head on Viktor’s warm, strong shoulder, “That’s kind of cold of you, Vitya. If what you’re telling me is right they’re like, twenty and twenty-two at the most. Still babies, really.”

                “They started it by messing with a perfectly normal simulation. It wasn’t exciting, yeah, but it wasn’t this…” he said, throwing his arms up in the air, “frustrating. I don’t even know where to start if we’re going in the right direction or if there’s anything but tall yellow flowers around us for miles…”

                “I mean, there’s a phone booth,” Yuuri said grimly, pointing to the third one they’d passed now, “but no change. Not that it matters because there’s no dial pad if the pattern is anything to go by.”

                “Of course, stupid useless outmoded phones. I’m sure it’s all a deep commentary on the innately human inability to communicate or some such nonsense…” Viktor said as he shook his head, “then again, I have no idea what else I expected from doctor Plisetsky and his little buddy.”

                Yuuri sat on the ground, tired. Around him, walls of bright yellow towered around him like a rolling wave about to crash into him, threatening to drag him into the undertow, a rippling inescapable riptide of flower petals. Above him, the sky seemed endless, with stars in the wrong place entirely, no recognisable constellations against the deep blue carpet of sprawling cyan. He laid on the ground with a sigh.

                _Maybe we should give up. Is it really so bad here, amongst the flowers?_ He thought, watching a large soft cloud drift lazily across the sky, casting a gentle shadow against his face for a moment. _Maybe this would be an okay place to die, to fall asleep forever…_

Viktor laid next to him, resting his head on his chest. Yuuri lazily dragged a hand over to his lover’s head, gently stroking his soft, silver hair as he watched him rise and fall with his deep, slow breaths. _No, I can’t give up here either. I have something to live for, someone to live for._

                He watched the pale skin of his hand burrowing into the thin ripples of silver hair, gentle strands catching the light, wrapping around his fingers like they were fibres of daylight, tinted with an almost imperceivable cool undertone of iridescent lavender. He smiled as he murmured softly, “how did I ever end up with someone as beautiful as you, Vitya?”

                “I ask myself the same thing, Yuuri,” Viktor replied, his voice dreamy and soft as he gently rubbed his cheek against Yuuri’s chest, affectionately inhaling his scent, “I can hear your heart beating. Thump, thump, thump.”

                “That’s because I’m a mammal, silly,” Yuuri said with a gentle laugh. Despite the frustrating circumstances, he felt a warm happiness stir in his heart at the other man's innocently earnest action of enunciating every heartbeat, “I need blood to cycle through my body so I can breathe.”

                “Yeah, but it’s extraordinary… it means you’re still alive,” Viktor replied once more, resting his ear against the other man’s chest, “you don’t even have to think about it, your hindbrain just knows to keep it beating, keep it going for you. No matter what, it will beat for you, keeping you alive…”

                “When you put it that way, it’s kind of like it’s keeping me alive out of love, right? Beating out of duty and devotion,” He said dreamily, half-focused on the conversation, half focusing on the visual affinity between his skin and the gently fluttering hair, almost white in the light, “kind of like you…”

                “You do the same to me, Yuuri…” He said, smiling into Yuuri’s chest, nuzzling the thick leather of the jacket he was still draped in, “with every _thump thump thump_ you keep me going.”

                “You’re so sweet, my little Vitya…” Yuuri said with a warm smile. Suddenly, he saw it, silvery strands of stray hair catching on something on his hand. He lifted it for a moment, observing his splayed hand against the sky, furrowing his brow in concentration. There was something there, on the back of his hands, a small ridge poking out of the flesh, barely visible amongst his skin. He frowned as he experimentally ran a mechanical finger across the surface, feeling the slightly rough metallic surface, a tiny curve grooved with tiny divots. The strange texture tickled slightly against the plastic of the artificial hand.

                His chest hitched forward slightly as he scraped the sharp edge of his white digit against the foreign object, scratching at it, trying to dig the intrusion out of his skin. He winced in pain as he managed to catch an edge, slightly rotating the protrusion. Viktor immediately sat up, his face twisted in an expression of alarm and concern as he responded to the irregularities in Yuuri’s breathing.

                “What is it, Yuuri?” He asked, furrowing his brows as he watched Yuuri digging at the back of his hand.

                “I don’t know, it’s just… In my hand,” Yuuri replied through gritted teeth, hissing as he watched round bubbles of deep red bloom around the silver object. He dug the pointed tip of his left index into the tiny wound he managed to open. His stomach felt queasy as he sat up as well, slightly doubled over, desperately prodding at the object in order to dislodge it.

                “There’s one in mine too…” Viktor said, his lips parted in open-mouthed horror as he ran a smooth black finger over the tiny silver crescent. Yuuri flinched as he watched the tip of his lover's digit dig under the back of his hand, pulling back his skin as he reached into the muscle underneath.

                Finally, he gasped as he managed to loosen it, pulling it delicately out. He almost laughed as he flipped the tiny metal disk in his hand, trying to wipe off crimson smears of blood as Viktor handed him the torn hem of his t-shirt in order to wrap his bloodied hand.

                They had change, exactly fifty cents between the two of them. Enough to make a single phone call.

                It was almost like a sick joke if Yuuri was to be entirely honest. He gently held Viktor’s waist as the other man worked to dislodge the coin from his own hand, his face pulling back into a tight grimace as he dug his fingers past the dermis into a layer of open red muscle. He bled in a thin trickle, the blood soaking into the green field below them, dissolving into the soil much like their bile had as the drops hit the floor. Finally, Viktor pulled out the quarter between his teeth as he hurriedly dressed his open wound.

                “I’m so tired of things that shouldn’t be under my skin,” Viktor said in a pant, his eyes wide and wild, “being stuck in there, Yuuri…”

                “I know babe,” Yuuri whispered softly as he nuzzled his neck affectionately, “I’m sorry. It’ll be over soon, right?”

                He sighed into the other man’s warm skin, delicately planting a kiss on Viktor’s spine as he held him for a moment, allowing their breaths to steady, their hands to stop trembling as they met each other’s fingers.

                “Right,” Viktor said with a tight smile, “then we’ll return to normalcy and I’ll never have to look at another fucking sunflower as long as I live.”

                Yuuri stood to his feet once more, tending his partner his artificial hand as he helped him up alongside him. They stood, watching the undulating ripple of golden petals in the breeze, forever pointed at the sun brightly shining above them. “We can either use these in a phone booth and hope, or try the tollbooth over there, or even one of the vending machines…”

                “Really,” Viktor said with a bitter laugh, “the possibilities are endless, right?”

                “Either way, who knows. Maybe there’s secretly a small fortune hidden inside us this time. Maybe they put dimes in our asscheeks or fucking nickels in our spleen or whatever…” Yuuri said, shaking his head at the ludicrousness of it all. It was the most arbitrary puzzle he could think of... It had been mildly painful, yes, but he’d been dead before for christ’s sake. Compared to that, anything was minute, a sidenote in the entirety of his existence, “either way, it probably won’t hurt to try.”

                They slowly made their way over to the bright red telephone booth, it’s glass windows reflecting the bright sun like mirrors, bending the light in unreal ways, casting prismatic colours onto their skin as they approached the case. There was a strange emptiness spreading through his limbs as he approached the door, something akin to dread and nausea. Mostly, Yuuri figured, it was merely the absence of hope, a strange cynicism that seemed so out of touch with the bright, almost saccharin environment around him, it was turbulent, strange.

                Perhaps Viktor had been onto something when he’d claimed that uncertainty was the true essence of suffering, taking out one’s emotions and glossing them over with a matte black coat of bitter nihilism. The sensation intensified as he gently grasped the small door handle, pulling it open with a small pop as his heart pounded in his ears, heavy and dreary. Perhaps the effect was the result of the simulation, or perhaps it was his own fatigue catching up to him.

                Perhaps life would’ve been simpler for everyone had he stayed dead, Viktor would certainly have eventually moved past the heartbreak, he was a strong man after all.

                Perhaps the solution was sunscreen, everyone was free to wear sunscreen after all.

                Perhaps he was just being stupid.

                He looked into Viktor’s eyes and sighed, he was most definitely being stupid. There was no point in thinking such thoughts… He was sure that Viktor might move on, but the light he saw in those hopeful blue eyes wouldn’t be there. It was as much a part of him as Yuuri was an inextricable part of Viktor’s soul. They had become one and the same, linked and intertwined. 

                There was something poignant about that, but he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about it as well.

                They stood in the box, the glass painting the colours of the light onto their worn faces, pinks and blues separated from the white of the daylight as they stood incredibly close, crowded in the tiny space. It was almost like standing in a coffin, a brightly lit coffin in a beautiful, sad place.

                He unhooked the old receiver from its cradle, holding the bright red plastic in his hands. It felt incredibly heavy, tired and obsolete. He played absentmindedly with the metal cord, trying to remember the last time he’d seen anyone use one of these. The cellphone had killed them off effectively, and in turn, this development, _Collecon_ , would certainly kill something or another. Maybe the kid had been right about them being a new step in human evolution, survivors that had been pushed into crossing the boundary between man and machine.

                He watched the silvery metallic cord catch the tinted light with a bright shimmer against his plastic hand. Inorganic, but strangely human. An old computer singing a sweet little love song. Feeling, yes, but never with all the subtleties of flesh and bone, of muscles and nerves…

                No matter how much he and Viktor tried, they’d never really return to normalcy. They’d had change thrust upon them by fate. Whether or not this was the cataclysm for an existential breakdown or merely a new facet of the self didn’t particularly matter at the moment, and yet it still weighed on Yuuri.

                Would his family even recognise the man he had become?

                Viktor rested his hand, the organic one, on Yuuri’s shoulder. His eyes warm and soft as he tried to read the other man. “You’re troubled, we don’t have to do this right now if there’s too much on your mind…”

                Yuuri shook his head, “I’m just as tired of this place as you are, Viktor. I… I just want to go home. I don’t even know if that exists for me anymore, but I want to go back home with you.”

                He turned back towards the bulky box, with no dial pad it seemed almost alien, like a phone booth that had been designed by someone who never actually had to use one.

                Then again, that was probably exactly the case, Yuuri Figured.

                He pushed the quarters into the coin slot and waited, holding the receiver between him and Viktor so both of them could quirk their ears to the earpiece to hear anything. Dial tones, long and deep, followed by the harsh static of a dialup modem, the familiar vaguely nostalgic stirrings that accompanied the familiar beeping of a machine seeking connection to a decidedly human means of communication.

                Machines letting people communicate by communicating with the phone lines in turn. Strangely appropriate.

                Finally, they heard the sound of an automated voicemail box pick up, tinny and weak through the worn and old speakers of the phone.

                “ **CONGRATULATIONS, YOU ARE THE FIRST CALLER. TO UNLOCK _LEVEL TWO EXCLUSIVE DLC_ , PLEASE GIVE US THE SECRET PASSWORD.**”

                Viktor rolled his eyes, mouthing the word _‘obnoxious’_ before his face fell into a stoic, harder expression. He squeezed Yuuri’s hand again as he gently lifted the receiver to his cheek, never letting Yuuri’s hand stray from the plastic telephone, as though he was afraid of losing him if they weren’t in each other’s proximity at the moment. His lips parted, soft and beautiful as he spoke in a gentle monotone, trying not to betray any more fear or vulnerability. The time for navel gazing had apparently long since come and passed...

                Five syllables that caused the ground around them to shake.

                “ _Memento mori._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to throw in a serious thanks for all the feedback and support I've been getting, you guys are all lovely!  
> please give yourselves a loving pat on the shoulder!
> 
> also, fifty cents is actually the cost of payphones in my home province, speaking as someone who actually used one since 2010... that's wild.


	20. Memento Mori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the beginning of the end as Level Two kicks in and reaches it's climax, leaving Yuuri with some hard decisions to make.

                The ground shook with violent tremors as Yuuri clutched desperately at Viktor, pulling him close. Suddenly, all his angst and every dark thought about the nature of his being was chased out of his mind, replaced with a single-minded, all-encompassing need to survive and keep the man next to him alive. He held Viktor tightly, as though shielding him from some invisible threat.

                “Vitya…” He said in a hoarse, panicked tone, “What is happening?”

                “It’s the fail-safe, Yuuri…” Viktor said with a sigh, “I never gave it to Yura before, it was too dangerous, I didn’t trust him.... but I trust you.”

                “Fail-safe?” Yuri asked, incredulous as the deep tremor and clattering rumble of the earth grew louder and more violent, “you mean, they can just… shut us down now?”

                “Theoretically, yes.” Viktor nodded, his voice grim and determined, “he always wanted it, I never gave it to him. I figure his little buddy has no use for it though, he’s probably having a blast watching us scurry around… as for Yura, well he won’t use it. I believe he’s too proud to admit that this was a terrible idea…”

                “You really trust that you’re right, Vitya?” Yuuri asked with a shout, his eyes darting around as he watched the ground open up in deep, spider web-like faults, grass and earth peeling away to reveal more white, milky emptiness underneath, “what if you’re wrong? if they shut it down before… before I figure it out then we’ll both get erased.”

                “I don’t… there’s no way of knowing for sure…” Viktor responded, a flicker of uncertainty hiding amongst something else, something vicious and determined and hard. The protective glare of a wild beast staking out its land, fighting tooth and claw to keep the pride alive glowering in his eyes, “but I trust you. I trust in what you said, about going home and being real together. We could’ve stayed here forever, I’m sure you thought the same thing when we were wandering aimlessly… but you’re right. I’m tired of this, we need to go home… and my love, I trust with all my heart that you can get us there.”

                “But why me Vitya…” Yuuri replied, knowing full well that he was being childish, that it was time to cast aside doubt, “I’ve never completed anything in my life…”

                Viktor smiled warmly, “it’s never too soon to start, love… besides, you’re not alone. It’s like I said when we met again, we’re alone together. You don’t have to shoulder the weight of the world on your own, you know?”

                Yuuri nodded, “I trust you too…”

                 Suddenly, he heard a loud shrill creak over in the distance, his head snapping to examine just what could be causing that sound. He watched the gate they’d walked past hours ago rise, the striped pole like a flag of surrender in the air as the shrill alarm sounded, bright red lights shining brightly like twin beacons amongst the sea of yellow. Below his feet, the floor rumbled more violently than ever, knocking him off his shaky legs into Viktor’s chest. The two collapsed against the glass panel of the phone booth, their eyes wide as they watched the point in the distance grow larger at an incredibly rapid pace.

                There, careening along the ground at breakneck speed was a subway, rolling as though it were on a track, slicing through the plant life like a reaper’s scythe, heading towards the phonebooth in which they stood. Yuuri shivered, throwing himself over Viktor as though to protect him, closing his eyes tightly as the mechanical behemoth made its way towards them, completely unavoidable…

                It was it, his final moments.

                Only it wasn’t.

                He held his breath, hoping desperately that it would be quick and painless. When the train did hit the glass wall, it shattered into a million glittering particles, each one glimmering like stars scattering around the men. Yuuri felt the gritty particles tear into his skin as the pair was flung once more into the air. Viktor’s hands clasped Yuuri’s violently, desperately keeping them together once more. It seemed as though his efforts were in vain, as he felt the ripping sensation of the impact, his fingers almost fluttering as they grazed Viktor’s warm ones. He opened his eyes once more, breathless in the whirlwind. The world seemed to stop, so incredibly slow as he was weightless amongst the gleaming diamond dust and the pathetic scraps of plant life, floating through the air as though he was in a dream.

                He wanted to scream but found no sound leaving his lungs. Instead, he closed his eyes tightly as he felt his body twist and contort wildly in the air.

                Finally, he fell to the ground with a dull, meaty thud. He gasped, breathing in the scent of rubber and disinfectants. His eyelids fluttered open drearily, realising that at some point he’d seemingly passed through the train’s metal walls into an abandoned car. The hand grips swayed as the train moved forward, ripping through a seemingly endless field of white mist…

                He looked around, trying to find anything as he scanned the empty red seats, lights flickering gently as he gripped at a pole, trying to steady his legs. Besides the obvious rocking of the moving vehicle, he was still getting used to manoeuvering on an artificial leg.

                “Viktor?” He called out, his voice echoing in the din of the abandoned subway car. Nothing.

                He grunted as he finally found some sort of footing, making slow, deliberate steps towards the doors at the end of the corridor. He gripped at the empty seats for stability as he made his way forward, hoping to god he would see the other man somewhere. It seemed as though, despite all logic, he’d ended up in the back of the train.

                He continued as he finally made his way to the twin doors, forcing them open. He stepped into the adjacent car, finding it even dimmer and less brightly lit than its predecessor. He squinted, adjusting his cracked glasses as he tried to make out what appeared to be the silhouette of a person, sitting crosslegged on one of the sideways facing seats, their head hanging low.

                “Viktor?” He called out again, tentatively.

                The figure silently shook its head.

                He stepped closer slowly, hesitating as he occasionally stopped to maintain his balance, lest he topple face first onto the hard rubber floor again. As he got closer, he recognised the mop of wild hair, a flash of red bangs against his tan skin. The boy was still dressed in the same oversized hoodie, his sleeve rolled up to reveal the modified gauntlet on his hand. He looked up at Yuuri, his eyes almost seeming conflicted.

                Entirely different to what he saw of the boy before.

                “Do you think I’m a bad person, Katsuki-senpai?” The boy asked quietly as Yuuri approached, his voice still harsh and mechanical under his mask-like speech-modifying apparatus, “I didn’t even know he was your boyfriend. If I had known, I would’ve been nicer to him… do you think it makes me cruel, that I only want to be kind to him because I know he makes you happy?”

                Yuuri furrowed his brows, “I don’t understand…”

                Trickster lifted his head, his eyes still gleaming with manic energy, but tempered with something else, something slightly melancholic and cool, “I thought he was like me, just someone who was star struck by you and ended up somehow just… kind of developing this sort of sad schoolboy crush, wwww. Don’t worry about it, I’m over it, I was like 17 and never had a role model before so I kind of acted like a f- like an idiot kek. I didn’t even know what happened between you two… I was just angry that he was lying to you like that.”

                “Trickster, are you trying to apologise?” He asked, tilting his head as he tried to read the person sitting before him, “I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t know if this is the right time.”

                He nodded, rubbing the back of his head nervously as he continued speaking, “the way I saw it, you were trapped. He had trapped you in this place, in his little sim city and he’d go in every day and watch you from a distance… of course, he couldn’t keep me out so the other guy, Dr Abandoment-Issues came looking for me. He saw things the same way I did… only he didn’t. I think I just wanted to shake things up enough for your brain to come to, maybe make you stronger along the way, but I think he just wanted to… feel strong. Like he was in control of something for once in his life.”

                Yuuri swallowed as he took in the information. This whole time, he assumed that they’d been acting out of malice, or maybe some misguided sense of self-righteous rage… Instead of seeing these people he thought he should hate, he just saw a pair of confused children playing with fire. One to bring back the idol he thought he lost, the other to punish him for the fact that he would never be able to do the same. Of course, it meant that the world around them was burning, engulfed in the ravaging blaze, and they might all get burned to ash if they didn’t step carefully.

                Or become tempered by the flames, strong and unbreakable.

                It was a fifty-fifty chance.

                “Where’s Vitya, err, I mean Viktor Nikiforov, my boyfriend…” He asked as he gently sat next to the crestfallen boy. He wanted so much to hate him, to feel burning venom coil on his tongue and lash out at him, and yet he couldn’t find himself doing that. The kid was just that, a stupid child making stupid childish mistakes.

                They both were.

                He’d recognised himself in them, on some strange level. Then again, his heart had always been tender. Phichit used to joke that it was made of glass, and he could never find any counterpoints to argue the opposite…

                “I don’t know where doctor Get-The-Fuck-Out-Before-I-Call-Security is…” The boy said, pulling back slightly, as though being in Yuuri’s presence was too overwhelming for him, as though there was some sort of strange warmth radiating from his pores that might melt his wax wings if he flew too close, “that’s why I’m here… He rigged it, the phone. It wasn’t supposed to, but he triple-crossed us and rigged the phone to shut down the system when Animus’ administrator code was input. I think he panicked when you called him out, he was swearing up a storm when he came back to.”

                “Wait, but we’re not ready…” Yuuri said a little too loudly, a nervous sweat trickling down his neck as he spoke, followed by a cold violent shiver. His blood ran cold in his veins as his lip quivered, “I still don’t know how to do that without deleting everything… everyone.”

                Trickster nodded grimly, “I think… there’s a console in the front of the train. If you manually input the codes, your brain should be able to register that you consciously shut it down.”

                “I think you might be right. If everything here is a cognition, then it would make sense for my mind to recognise the end of it and be able to preserve itself. The Journal did mention that it was filling in the blanks, right?” Yuuri muttered, thinking out loud more than anything else, “I just need to make sure Vitya logs out first.”

                “Of course, your brain did, Katsuki-senpai…” The boy said, excitedly clapping his hands, “it’s cause you’re so brilliant. Ok ok, here’s what I’ll do… I’ll look for a way to flush the system, that way I might be able to get your Doctor McDreamy out of here in the odd chance you can’t find him. Don’t worry, I totally locked everything up in the van, so even if he’s beating on the door li’l Yuri won’t be able to come interrupt until he’s done being salty, kek.”

                Yuuri nodded as he watched Trickster reach into the pocket of his bright green sweater once more, pulling out a small, black pistol which shimmered with an iridescent blue quality. He put it to his temple as he waved excitedly, mouthing ‘GOOD LUCK’ as he pulled the trigger, causing his form to collapse into particles that Yuuri noted looked quite similar to those that the window had shattered into, bright green and cyan. They trailed along the floor like dust bunnies as Yuuri made his way through the Subway, fighting the resistance of the motion as the train continued careening through the nothingness that was once the world he’d lived in for an untold number of years…

                He glanced up at the screen that would usually show a map of the line, with the names of any nearby stations lit up in bold text. Instead, the screen simply showed a timer counting down ten minutes.

                Ten minutes to defragmentation.

                His breathing was laboured, heavy as he made his way forward, the white carbon fiber of his leg straining and making slight creaking noises as he wobbled on it, his footing precarious as the train made sharp turns in the void, as though it were on some sort of invisible trajectory, a rail leading nowhere.

                He was heavy, weighted as he scrambled along through a seemingly endless number of empty cars, hoping he would see a telltale flash of silver or any sign that the boy had succeeded in his mission to somehow extract the other man. As it were, the cars were all painfully, ridiculously identical. An endless parade of exact replicas of the car before them dimly lit with flickering lights casting strange shadows over empty, worn red vinyl seats. Over the intercom system, he could’ve sworn he heard the telltale hum of an old Yes album being drowned out by the mechanical clanking of the train’s mechanisms as it wound its way through a never-ending snaking path in the emptiness around them, but he couldn’t be sure.

                Finally, after he was starting to doubt if he could even ever reach the front of the infernal engine, he opened the final door.

                There, in the conductor’s chair, was Viktor. His head resting on his hands as the pallid green glow of the console inlaid within the control panel cast a sickly hue onto his features. His eyes seemed tired as he looked over to Yuuri, deep creases cut under his eyes. He had a sad, slightly weak smile on his face as he nodded. Yuuri sat next to him, gently caressing the other man’s cheek, feeling the prickle of a few day’s worth of neglected stubble under his fingertips. Realer than ever, so close to the man outside the simulation, laying in a hospital bed with bright red cables attached to his brainstem, like taught veins connecting him to the heart of the machine.

                “Are you ready Vitya?” He asked, as he slowly turned to the computer laid into the panel in front of him. It was a rudimentary interface, but he was certain he could operate it. It was his final chance, his ultimate mayday as the iceberg tore through the hull, plunging him into the cold dark waters of uncertainty.

                “I don’t know,” He answered, his eyes downcast under his long pale lashes. “I don’t know anything. What if you never wake up, what if all of this was for nothing?”

                On the desk was the rubber duck, it’s small orange bill locked into an eternal, anatomically impossible smile. The sharpie’d glasses faded slightly as the owner had taken out many long nights of frustration out on the poor little plastic waterfowl. He never knew what happened to the real version of it after he’d graduated from university.

                “It never answered, but we talked things out…” Viktor continued with a weak, sardonic grin, “and Ducky Katsuki and I figure the risks outweigh the rewards but we trust you in the end. Ducky Katsuki would’ve chosen denial in the first place, so what does he know…”

                “I mean, it’s not wrong…” Yuuri said as he gently took Viktor’s hands into his own, giving them a warm, reassuring squeeze, “but the rewards are real, denial isn’t. The comfort of a lie will never be better than that of being able to grow alongside you for real, to experience life and love out in the big, wild world, to take the changes and risks as they come... Besides, there’s a fifty-fifty chance that if I type CONTINUE into this computer I’ll wake up, my brain forcing itself awake…”

                “But a fifty-fifty percent chance that our consciousness will be erased forever,” Viktor muttered as he brought Yuuri’s hand to his lips, gently brushing over his bruised and torn knuckles.

                “I know, but you just have to believe that things will fall into place, right. Have some faith in me…” Yuuri said with a smile, gently leaning into Viktor’s face for a final kiss.

                He melted into the warm, soft contact, feeling the gentle lurch of his heart as he kissed the other man, his tongue slowly lapping at Viktor’s lower lip as he parted them open, allowing Yuuri to deepen the embrace as their eyes closed, focusing on the warmth that they exchanged. The pressure of loving lips against his own, the sharpness of the points of his teeth as he ran his tongue along them, the wetness of muscle on muscle as their tongues mingled, exploring the subtleties that lingered on them like sweet unspoken words, warm breaths like gentle sighs drawn out of each other’s lungs to sustain the other.

                If this was the last thing Yuuri Katsuki, age _???_ ever felt, he would be a happy man. It felt like a summer afternoon, peaceful and warm. It tasted like instant coffee and sunflower seeds, it smelled like forget-me-nots and reminded him of a playful evening spent chasing fireflies and holding hands by the dock of the bay. An urban garden on the roof of an abandoned apartment complex. The sounds of music that had been long forgotten carried on the breeze as though they were tangible, living things that occupied the space around them. All of summer vacation rolled into one climactic, time stopping moment.

                A feeling.

                This feeling.

                Weightless but corporeal all at once. Every emotion, every synapse pouring everything into the strange neurochemical cocktail called _love_.

                He gently pulled back, his eyes soft and slightly teary as he held Viktor’s hand between his own once more, “you have to let go now, Vitya. You have to log yourself out, or else we can’t be sure you’ll be ok.”

                Viktor shook his head violently, his eyes bright and filled with fearful tears as he held harder, almost hurting Yuuri with the desperate pressure of his powerful fingers, “I can’t… what if I lose you again? I can’t.”

                “I was afraid you might say that Vitya. Please find it in your heart to forgive me, okay?” Yuuri whispered as he gently cocked the revolver which he’d found in the other man’s pocket as they kissed, gently pressing it against his temple. The trigger felt heavy, cold against his artificial finger as he curled it slowly. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable and unwilling to see the other man’s expression as he heard the telltale click and felt a spray of pale blue particles against his face. Cold, like a stinging drift of powder snow.

                He opened his eyes again, taking in the empty conductor’s car for the final time, picking up Ducky Katsuki and looking into its dull, lifeless, painted on beady little eyes.

                “We’d better be right, little buddy…” He muttered to himself as he felt the cool plastic keys against his fingertips, each one sending a spark of electric anticipation through his veins, sharp and hot.

                C O N T I N U E.

                M E M E N T O  M O R I.

_REMEMBER YOU ARE MORTAL._

                Yuuri felt light, infinitely light. Weightless. As though he was nothing. A speck. A particle. A mass of atoms barely holding shape.

                He felt light, his body no longer present as he drifted along the misty white nothingness, entirely incorporeal but also strangely real. He was nothing and everything at once, simultaneously present and vacant. He floated along, a tiny speck, a quark, an action potential firing through the axon as everything disintegrated around him, a swirling milky miasma of nothingness tinged with blue and cigarette smoke…

                Was he alive?

                                Was he dead?

                                                Did it matter?

                Where was Ducky Katsuki now… he sure could use a rubber duck.

_This sucks, either shut down or reboot already, I’m very tired and I need to know if it’s now safe to shut down my computer._

                It was 1999 all over again, the world was going to end because someone forgot to throw in a few zeroes when they were programming all the world’s computers. Alan Turing was right, they were stealing teacups and throwing them out the window. Trivia, flowing through the clouds along with his consciousness, or rather, the babbling brook of inanity Yuuri Katsuki seemed to have become as he felt the timer countdown to the end.

                He felt them trilling in what could be his blood, like a wire connecting his being to his arteries, snaking through his nerves, every second a tic, every other a toc.

                It didn’t hurt, but that was only because there was nothing there but endless nothingness, and therefore, everything was sprawling in front of him.

                Maybe he should’ve kept up with skating, it was a good hobby and no one ended up being entirely synthesised in that.

_Three seconds._

_Two seconds._

_One                 s e c o n d._

 

 

                For the first time in five years, Yuuri Katsuki opened his eyes, and all he saw was blue, twin blue oceans he could drown in forever.

                He smiled weakly, his lips trembling and unable to open properly, overwhelmed by everything.

_Good morning._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, 20 chapters and 163 pages of double-spaced, 11 pt. Calibri font later  
> I'm so happy everyone enjoyed and supported this wild ride!
> 
> for those of us who are sad that it's over (which honestly includes me) please don't fret: there's a sequel! it's right [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10947930/chapters/24363615) and involves Yuuri and Viktor dealing with the healing process and some of the questions that remained entirely unanswered!


End file.
